Return to Cackle's
by the-spellbound-spirit
Summary: Mildred has finally graduated from Weirdsister College and is looking for work. She finds herself back where her story began, but does the Worst Witch have what it takes to save Cackle's Academy one last time?
1. New Beginnings

It was finally time for Mildred to go out into the world of work. After three years of studying at Weirdsister College to achieve her qualification from the Witches Guild and another two years of extra study she was happy to say that she had finally managed to qualify as an Abstract Art teacher.

Mildred was aware of the harsh reality when it came to teaching. She had spent a month teaching at Pentangle's Academy under the watchful, beady eyes of Miss Pentangle herself. Miss Pentangle was a harsh woman but she was very kind, deep down. She had the best interest of all of her students at heart. Mildred admired this about Miss Pentangle and wanted to channel some of that energy into her own practice as a teacher.

Now Mildred was living on her own in a studio flat. She had moved to the suburbs of Cambridge after she had graduated from Weirdsister College, leaving everything behind apart from Tabby, her beloved grey and black tabby cat and a few of her old spell books and paintings for her portfolio. Her flat was... "cosy", the estate agent had called it. She had a sofa which she pulled out on a night to make a bed. When she did this the end of it touched her desk making sleeping with any kind of comfort nearly impossible. She had bookshelves filled with beaten, heavily worn books next to a TV unit with an old television set on it. The building had a communal bathroom, which meant that she had to be up bright and early in order to enjoy a nice, long, warm shower on a morning.

On a rainy, Thursday afternoon in June Mildred was sat on her sofa, Tabby on her knee, working on her curriculum vitae (or CV as most people call it). She had listed all of her qualifications down; her PGCE, her Witches Higher Certificate, her qualifications from the Witches Guild... but with little to no experiences as a teacher, apart from that month she spent at Pentangle's, Mildred doubted she would ever actually find a decent job in any kind of establishment requiring an art teacher. Employers she had contacted had only ever been interested in candidates with experience. But how was she meant to get any experience without getting a job in the first place?

She sighed to herself, rubbing her temples and putting her CV to one side. She scratched behind Tabby's ears and found her eyes wandering over to her desk, where her many files and portfolios were stacked haphazardly on top of one another. Then she spotted the newspaper propped up against one of the many teacups dotted around her flat. She summoned it by magic and flicked to the jobs page, praying silently to herself as she did so, hoping against hope that she would find something...

 _Art Teacher Required_

 _Our school is looking for a new art teacher to start in the new term (this September). The potential candidate must be efficient in all artistic styles and class management, as well as supporting other members of staff during staff meetings. WHC and PGCE certifications are vital to be considered for this role._

Mildred smiled to herself as she stood up to grab a pen and an envelope from her desk, sending Tabby onto the floor with a thud. She scribbled down the address onto the plain white envelope and folded up her CV and slotted it neatly inside. Now to run down to the post office, cross her fingers and hope for the best.


	2. Out With The Old

The rain that was gently drizzling in Cambridge was pounding mercilessly against the cobblestone walkways of a great stone castle, surrounded by tall trees which swayed and whistled in the roaring wind. The postman was ringing his bell loudly at the tall gates as he dismounted his bike and slid the many catalogues and letters into a metal postbox inside the castle walls.

A woman, who had been roused by the sudden but expected din within the walls of the castle, strode outside to gather what had been sent to them. She walked quickly back inside as long tendrils of wet hair began to loosen from her sleek, tight bun of dark hair.

She rushed through the stone corridors, up a short flight of stairs and into a cosy room with a roaring fire and many mismatched armchairs and dining chairs around a dark wooden table. Three other women were sat around the table; one slender with tanned skin and short, blonde hair, an older woman with frizzy mousy brown hair pulled back into a low bun and a plump woman with sleek, grey, bobbed hair.

The dark haired woman placed the pile of post onto the table for her colleagues to sort through and warmed herself in front of the fire, smoothing her hair back into her high bun.

"Any applicants for Miss Manbee's post?" the blonde asked, sipping on her tea.

"Not yet, Miss Drill," replied the plump woman, passing the dark haired woman some post to open as she sat down.

Miss Drill looked at the brunette curiously as she opened a white envelope with a red stamp on. She recognised that handwriting. The brunette unfolded the letter that was inside and began to read it, her eyes widening with disbelief.

The woman passed the letter to the plump woman, "Read this, Miss Cackle."

Miss Cackle took it, removing her green horn-rimmed spectacles from on top of her head, and read it thoroughly.

"Now, Miss Hardbroom-"

"I know, Miss Cackle, I know." Miss Hardbroom hissed, staring at the letter in Miss Cackle's hands, "But just because she has the qualifications and the skill doesn't mean she will actually be a good teacher."

Miss Cackle lingered for a moment before she went on, "It says here that she spent a month at Pentangle's Academy. You're good friends with Miss Pentangle, aren't you? Surely you can query Mildred's experience with her?"

"I'll contact Phyllis but I hardly call one month under the nose of someone else teaching experience, Miss Cackle."

Miss Cackle smiled to herself as she passed the CV to the mousy-haired Miss Bat who read it, appearing to ponder over every letter as though she was reading sheet music.

Miss Hardbroom watched as each of her colleagues read the letter. She found herself tapping her foot on the floor nervously. Mildred Hubble had ended up being a very promising student after the incident with The Uninvited in her third year. Nevertheless, she was wary about inviting the girl back to the castle regardless of whether it was for a role as a teacher or not.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter_


	3. Second First Impressions

Mildred was flying over mountains and tall trees, Tabby's cat basket rocking wildly on the end of her broomstick. The high winds were throwing her off course, but she remained determined. The sun was sinking in the sky. She was already late for her interview as it was. She checked her watch briefly. It was nearly seven o'clock at night, she was due there by midday.

"What a great impression!" She mumbled to herself as she saw the fortress-like building up ahead, "seven hours late! They won't even consider giving me the job!"

The castle had tall turrets with a roof that looked like it should have been replaced years ago. There appeared to be a thousand missing roof tiles. Mildred thought it looked as though the only thing that was holding the place together was the thick layer of moss covering the patches from the missing tiles and the ivy trailing over the walls.

She patted the handle of her broom, "We're coming in to land, broom!" The broom shuddered and then began to nose dive rapidly towards the ground. Mildred dragged her hands over the handle of the broom to pull it back up but it was resolute, fixated on crashing. She screeched at it, "Stop, broom! Stop!" but it was no use. The broom began to spin in mid air. Tabby was shrieking in his cat basket as finally Mildred landed with a loud crack in the cobblestone courtyard of the castle, bouncing into a overfilled yellow dustbin behind an empty broom shed.

Mildred stood up, dusting herself off and checking to make sure Tabby was okay. Then she looked at the broom; it had broken cleanly in two, "Oh no..." she thought, picking up the two halves of her broken broomstick.

She threw her broken broomstick to one side, picking up Tabby's cat basket and carried it up a set of weathered stone steps. She knocked three times on the heavy wooden door that lead into the castle. Mildred looked around her as she waited patiently. The lanterns on the walls had already been lit to light her way and the sky was growing darker as the trees that she had flown over were now mere black outlines in the twilight.

The door opened with a loud creak as though of its own volition and Mildred stepped inside. Inside the castle seemed almost colder than outside, with no braziers or warm radiators to heat the stone hallway. She stepped forward, towards a familiar wooden railed staircase.

"Welcome back, Mildred Hubble," said a warm voice from behind her. The sound of the voice warmed her more than any radiator ever could. She turned, smiling at the plump witch, who wore a pair of green horn-rimmed spectacles and had a kind twinkle in her blue eyes.

"Miss Cackle!" Mildred cried, beaming at her former headmistress, "I-"

Miss Cackle continued to smile kindly at her old pupil, and then she spoke, "I'm happy to see you, but you are very late for your interview."

"I know, Miss Cackle, and I'm sorry. This weather-"

"Dreadful, isn't it? Let's get you warmed up in my office and we can get started."

Miss Cackle patted Mildred softly on the shoulder and she lead her through the labyrinthine corridors that she knew so well from her days at school. They stopped at the familiar office door and Miss Cackle looked up at Mildred.

"Everything will be just fine," she said as she turned the brass door handle and the door swung inwards.

Mildred had been in the headmistress' office more times than she cared to admit. It was just as she remembered; with deep blue walls, a roaring fire set in a white marble mantle-piece and a mahogany desk that sent a shiver up her spine when she looked at it. Too often she had sat opposite Miss Cackle, discussing her failures as a student. Now she was about to sit in that very same chair and ask for a job.

Miss Cackle gestured for Mildred to sit down and summoned a cup of hot chocolate out of thin air for her former student, "Miss Hardbroom will be along shortly- Ah, here she is now."

As the door opened behind Mildred, she saw her terrifying former potions teacher march into the room to stand behind Miss Cackle as she always had done when Mildred was a student.

"It's lovely to see you again, Miss Hardbroom." Mildred smiled sweetly and Miss Hardbroom blinked at her.

"I wish I could say the pleasure was all mine, Mildred. I was wary about moving your application forward. Had it not been for Miss Cackle twisting my arm and a conversation with Miss Pentangle regarding your... teaching ability, you would not be sat here today."

Miss Cackle gazed kindly at Mildred, "She had nothing but praise for you, Mildred. She said you inspired the students and some of your teaching style has rubbed off on the staff. I bet you're glad to hear that."

Mildred couldn't believe what she was hearing. Miss Pentangle had been so harsh, so stubborn. Yet she, Mildred Hubble, had influenced how they ran one of the biggest witch's academies in the country. Her heart filled with pride as she started discussing her time at Weirdsister College, her qualifications, her time at Cackle's Academy.

Finally, Miss Cackle turned to Miss Hardbroom who whispered something in her ear.

"I think you're right," Miss Cackle turned back to Mildred, "It's getting very late, Mildred," she said checking the clock on the mantle, "goodness me, the girls haven't been sent to bed either, Miss Hardbroom-"

"Miss Drill is on night patrol, I believe, Miss Cackle." There was a hint of a smile playing on the potions teacher's dark lips as she mentioned the gym mistress, "She will have seen to it that the girls are all in bed, I'm sure."

Miss Cackle took a deep breath, perhaps a sigh of relief, and looked at Mildred who was shifting in her seat, "Let's return to the subject at hand, shall we? It's obvious to me that you have matured greatly since you left us all those years ago, Mildred, and I will be more than happy for you to return to Cackle's Academy."

Mildred's heart skipped. She jumped out of her seat to wrap her arms around Miss Cackle, who returned her embrace with the enthusiasm of a welcoming grandmother. Mildred pulled away and saw the widest smile on Miss Cackle's round face.

"It will be wonderful to have you back, Mildred Hubble."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter_


	4. A Friendly Glass of Sherry?

_Dear Constance,_

 _I've been very well, thank you for asking. The girls have been very distracted, what with the end of term coming up. We've found that energy consuming tasks have helped; long runs out in the forest are working wonders._

 _How have your girls been? Did Mildred's interview go well? I know how concerned you were about bringing her back._

 _I'm sure there is nothing to worry about with Mildred. From what I remember when she was under Miss Redmond she was confident with our students and had great class control. The girls respected her, probably because she can sympathise with the girls, given she is so young._

 _When will we be having our next game of chess? Up for a glass of sherry afterwards?_

 _Yours faithfully,_

 _Phyllis Pentangle_

* * *

 _Phyllis,_

 _I'm glad to hear you are well. I shall tell Imogen about the runs out in the woods. It must be something in the water at the moment; our girls are very distracted. I had to assign a five-thousand word essay to one of the fifth years last week._

 _Life at Cackle's is as expected. Preparing for Miss Manbee's departure is putting a strain on us all, particularly Miss Bat who was so close to her. Miss Cackle seems to be looking forward to having Mildred back at Cackle's Academy. Personally I am not taken with the idea of having Mildred Hubble back at the school, but for the sake of my headmistress I will give her the benefit of the doubt. She seems to have matured greatly since leaving us._

 _Are you free for a rematch this Sunday?_

 _All the best,_

 _Constance Hardbroom_

* * *

 _Connie,_

 _You really are a sore loser, aren't you? Not a peep since our chess game back in June. It's not at all like you to stay quiet._

 _How are you? Getting ready for the new term? I suppose Miss Cackle will have you working your fingers to the bone, will she?_

 _Give everyone at Cackle's my best wishes. Next time you come over we'll just have a glass of sherry and a chat._

 _Speak soon._

 _Phyllis._

* * *

Constance Hardbroom dipped the nib of her quill into her inkwell and scribbled a reply down onto a sheet of paper, placing it inside a brown envelope.

There was a knock at the door of her chamber as she stood up, the brown envelope in her hand.

"Come in," she called, straightening her black and white striped dress. She looked up as the door opened. Her stomach lurched. Miss Drill was standing in the doorway, staring at her with her emerald green eyes.

"Fancy going for a walk? You look like you could use some fresh air." Miss Drill smiled, walking towards the potions teacher, her ebony hair hanging loose around her waist, "You should wear your hair down more often, Miss Hardbroom."

"It's not practical to have it down when I'm working." She stated calmly, following the gym mistress out of her study, closing the door behind her. They walked together in silence until they reached the courtyard, "I need to go to the postbox in the village."

"As do I, actually." Miss Drill said, waving a letter in Miss Hardbroom's face.

"Sending a letter to Mr Dubois?" Miss Hardbroom asked coldly, remembering the aggravating man she had encountered so many years ago.

Miss Drill nodded as they stepped through Walker's Gate and into the woods, "How was your holiday? Get into any mischief?"

Miss Hardbroom scoffed, stepping over a branch that had fallen during the summer storms, "I'm not one for getting into trouble, Imogen. You should know this by now. We have worked together for fifteen years," she looked at the blonde who looked very disappointed indeed, "If you must know, I didn't go home this summer. I stayed at the school. I needed to do a lot of paperwork."

Miss Drill tilted her head sympathetically, "Serge and I went on an outward bound course with the Rocky's. There was canoeing, rock climbing. Not your cup of tea, Miss Hardbroom, but it was a lot of fun."

They finally reached the fence that led to the village; Old Noxby, an Anglo-Saxon village made up of old thatched roof cottages. It was a classic English village; friendly neighbours, gardening clubs, independent shops. There was no sign of the Great British high street in sight. It was like the village was stuck in a time long since past, where one could leave the front door unlocked without having to worry about being burgled, where community spirit still existed. The scent of the local farmyards filled the air as Miss Hardbroom and Miss Drill walked down the paved street.

"Do you get lonely, Miss Hardbroom?" Miss Drill asked as they reached the red post box outside the corner shop, taking the letter from Miss Hardbroom and dropping both letters into the postbox.

Miss Hardbroom stared at Miss Drill for a moment, her eyebrows raised.

"I only meant that with you staying at the school by yourself for the whole summer, did you not feel the need to talk to anyone?"

"I am happy with my own company, Miss Drill. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do," Miss Hardbroom stated in her cold voice. Her dark eyes pierced Miss Drill's green ones for a moment then she folded her arms over her chest and in the blink of an eye she was gone.

Miss Drill bit her bottom lip and kicked the pavement. She stood for a moment, hoping that the brunette hadn't vanished. She hadn't meant to irritate her, though being the only non-witch at Cackle's it was inevitable she was going to irritate the old traditionalist.

Her relationship with the potions teacher had changed since she had come back from her holiday with Serge. They had never seen eye to eye, but Miss Drill found herself asking Miss Hardbroom questions about her day, rather than questions solely about the school. The woman was an impenetrable fortress; there was no getting through that tough outer shell. The only person who had seen Miss Hardbroom without her armour was Miss Cackle.

She needed to get back to the school. She checked her watch, stretched, then began jogging back to the school, the roasting hot sun beating down on her as she jumped over logs and tree stumps in the deep forest leading towards the castle.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter_


	5. Hubble Bubble, Toil and Trouble

_Thank you so much for the reviews, I hope you enjoy this new chapter!_

* * *

It was the first of September. The beginning of a new term. Grey clouds had gathered over Cackle's Academy as students descended upon the cobblestone courtyard, greeting their friends after the summer break. Mildred watched the students in their crowds, laughing and shouting with excitement. She remembered her days at Cackle's with Maud, Enid, Jadu and Ruby; the joyous feeling that bubbled in her stomach when she saw her friends again. She sighed expectantly, she couldn't wait to finally meet her class. Her class! She could hardly believe she would be in charge of her own students.

She had settled in well as a new member of staff, though it was quite daunting for her when she sat down with Miss Cackle on her first day of training to go over the employee rules and regulations. They may have been in Miss Cackle's office for only an hour or so, but for Mildred time seemed to have been dragging its heels. Some of the rules were so obvious that there was no point in covering them, but as Miss Cackle had said, "If they aren't in the rule book, people will abuse them."

Mildred slumped in her seat at the staff room table, a rickety white dining chair with a worn brown cushion on the seat, as she sipped her tea; one of Miss Bat's personal blends of nettle and peppermint. The taste was actually quite pleasant, though Mildred disliked the occasional prickling from the barbs of the nettle leaves on her tongue.

Miss Drill was sat beside Mildred, reading a copy of some kind of camping magazine she had picked up from the newsagents during her run around the village that morning.

"So, Miss Hubble," Miss Drill started softly. Mildred stared out of the window, still watching her new students. Miss Drill furrowed her brow, "Miss Hubble!" Miss Drill said a little louder this time.

Mildred felt herself jump slightly, "Sorry, Miss Drill! I'm not used to being called Miss, yet. Especially by you and the others."

"I can imagine. All those years of being called Mildred then having to get used to being called something else... It took me a while too but you'll get used to it eventually," Miss Drill smiled gently at Mildred, putting her magazine down on the table, moving her hand to place it reassuringly on her shoulder, "You're doing great. Don't let them get to you."

Mildred returned Miss Drill's smile, "They don't get to me so much, I just want to make a good impression."

"I think you've managed, with Miss Cackle and Miss Bat at least." Miss Drill leant back in her chair and relaxed, picking up her magazine again, "The fact is, Mildred, they already know you. You've already broken the ice. You have nothing to worry about."

The cuckoo clock on the wall rang five o'clock. Mildred looked out the window for a moment; Miss Cackle, Miss Hardbroom and Miss Bat were already outside. The students were starting their traditional chant "Walker's Gate", a chant that was sung (or rather shouted) at the first years as they came through the gates of the castle on foot.

"Time to gather in the courtyard, Miss Hubble." Miss Drill said, standing up. Mildred followed her through the corridors at a smart pace, through the heavy wooden doors and into the cool air of early autumn.

Mildred looked at the young girls. She couldn't believe how small they were; with their pointed hats and cloaks shrouded around their shoulders, their broomsticks in their hands, their faces filled with absolute terror as the older girls shrieked "BITE YOUR NOSE OFF IF YOU'RE LATE!"

"Good of you to join us, Miss Hubble," Miss Hardbroom's icy voice prickled Mildred more than Miss Bat's nettle tea did, "Perhaps you could make yourself useful and help Miss Bat serve out the Witches Brew."

"Yes, Miss Hardbroom." Mildred felt like she was one of the students as she trailed off to help Miss Bat.

"I have to say, Miss Cackle, I am concerned," Miss Hardbroom grumbled to the headmistress as the students formed into lines to gather their drinks.

Miss Cackle looked up at the younger witch, her eyebrows raised, "What ever is the matter?"

"Two Hubbles in one school, Miss Cackle. One is bad enough, but Mildred and Henrietta Hubble together? I dread to think what will happen." Miss Hardbroom whispered as the students filed past, "Mildred is more mature than she was when she was a student here, there is no denying it, but I fear that Henrietta may try to manipulate Mildred's good nature."

"Ah." Miss Cackle said quietly, watching the dark haired Henrietta talking to her friends Mona Hallow, the younger sister of Mildred's worst enemy at school, Ethel Hallow, and Crescentmoon Winterchild, a member of the hedgewitch community., "I will speak to Mildred about the situation. I'm sure there will be no problem, Miss Hardbroom."

Miss Hardbroom flared her nostrils, folding her arms as Mildred served out cups of the blue brew from the cauldron on the picnic table that had been placed underneath one of the classroom windows.

Mildred smiled at the students as they received their drinks, murmuring words of thanks. As the queue of students diminished, Miss Cackle called to Mr Blossom to close the gates and she and Miss Hardbroom called out the register. Mildred came out from behind the picnic table with Miss Bat, looking around the crowd at the girls.

"Cousin Millie!" A voice came from the mass of students, and a small girl with long dark hair tied in pigtails leapt from the crowd and walked quickly towards Mildred.

Mildred blinked at her, "Hettie?!" She looked at her young cousin, who was apparently in her fourth year at the school as she had a red sash around her waist. She wanted to hug her; to make sure she was okay, that she had had a safe journey, but Mildred saw Miss Hardbroom watching her from the corner of her eye. It was obvious that the deputy head was waiting for Mildred's reaction.

"Henrietta Hubble, back into line at once." Mildred said loudly.

Henrietta's shoulders stooped, "But Mildred—"

"Back into line immediately!" Mildred boomed, watching as Hettie grumbled, fading back into the crowd of students. She looked over at Miss Hardbroom who nodded almost imperceptibly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her burgundy lips.

* * *

 _I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a review to let me know what you think._


	6. A Wheel In Motion

"Well done, Mildred." Miss Hardbroom sat in Miss Cackle's office, sharing half an apple with the headmistress,"If she can be firm with her own kin then perhaps she will make an excellent teacher."

Miss Hardbroom was surprised but pleased by Mildred's reaction towards her cousin; she had expected Mildred to forget herself in front of the girls, to be soft with Henrietta. Yet Mildred had been professional and stern. She proved, in front of the whole school, that she was not a push over.

"I hope this behaviour eases your earlier concerns, Constance," Miss Cackle said, taking a large bite from her half-an-apple.

Miss Hardbroom raised a thin eyebrow, "I still feel that you should discuss Henrietta with Mildred, Miss Cackle. She needs to understand that standards cannot be allowed to slip, even in soft subjects like art. Mildred must not be lenient with Henrietta. She must treat her like she would treat any other student."

Miss Cackle nodded gently, "I agree. We need to set a few ground rules with both Mildred and Henrietta Hubble."

* * *

"Hettie," Whispered Mildred through her cousin's bedroom door. She had felt terrible for being so abrupt with her in the courtyard, and in front of the whole school. She tapped on the door, "Hett-"

The door flew open, making Mildred stand bolt upright.

"What do you want?" Hettie asked, a scowl replacing her usually bright expression. She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at Mildred.

"I just wanted to apologise for the way I spoke to you in the courtyard-"

"Well don't bother. I'm not interested." Hettie grumbled, walking back into her room towards the window.

Mildred followed Hettie, sitting on the bed. She looked around the room; stone walls covered in posters, ornaments and garden gnomes on every available shelf and surface and a golden haired dog chewing one of his back paws on the pillow at the top of the bed.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Hettie. I'm sorry for snapping at you, but you shouldn't have left the line."

"I haven't seen you in six months, Millie!" Hettie shouted, flying around, her eyes wide, "I was happy to see you. I just thought the feeling would have been mutual."

Mildred stood up from the bed and went over to the window, wrapping her arms tightly around Hettie, "Of course I was happy to see you, Hettie," she moved back, placing her hands on each of the younger girl's shoulders, "But when I am here, you need to remember that I am your teacher."

Hettie's lips narrowed and she said in a sickly voice, "Yes, Miss Hubble."

Mildred furrowed her eyebrows, letting go of Hettie's shoulders and walking away into the corridor to bump into-

"Miss Hardbroom!" Mildred cried as she looked up at the pale face of the potions mistress.

"Ah, Miss Hubble. Just who I was looking for," Miss Hardbroom said in calm voice, "Miss Cackle and I would like to speak to you and Henrietta in the office."

Mildred shuffled on the spot as Hettie stepped out of her bedroom, closing the door, and then they followed Miss Hardbroom through the bedroom corridors and down the wooden staircase leading to the entrance hall.

She was worrying. Had her attitude towards Hettie bought her a bus ticket home? She could feel the sweat prickling the flesh on the palms of her hands. She was only trying to impress Miss Hardbroom. She knew her old teacher had been watching her, she didn't want to let her down.

Miss Hardbroom opened Miss Cackle's office door and ushered the two younger witches inside.

* * *

"This stinks, what's the point in my cousin being a teacher at this school if I can't even have a laugh with her?" Hettie was sprawled on Mona's starry bedspread, fiddling with her friend's Rubix cube. Mona was busy with her chemistry set, her red hair tied back to keep it out of her eyes, "She acted like Harshbrush. That's not Millie-"

"Miss Hubble, Hettie. And maybe she was only like that because she was trying to impress the other teachers." Corrected Mona as she poured a clear blue liquid into a beaker.

"But it's not her, Mona. She's meant to be fun. Now she's just a stuffy old teacher like the rest of them," Hettie slammed the Rubix cube on the bed and gave a frustrated groan.

"But that's just it, isn't it? She is your teacher." Mona stated, pushing her safety goggles up her nose as she looked at her friend.

Hettie sat up properly, "Maybe we could make her have some fun, though." Hettie smiled mischievously.

Mona looked up from her chemistry set, a test tube in one of her rubber glove-clad hands, "What exactly do you mean, Hettie?"

Hettie raised an eyebrow, eyeing Mona's chemistry set, "Wait and see, Mona. Wait and see."

* * *

Mildred breathed a sigh of relief as she left the staff room to go to bed. She had managed to impress Miss Hardbroom. The older witch had been almost friendly as she, Miss Cackle, Miss Drill and Miss Bat sat around the staff room table going through the events of the day over cups of the most delicious hot chocolate Mildred had ever tasted; whipped cream, chocolate flakes and mint leaves to top it all off. The scene had been almost surreal. She never imagined as a student that the teachers could have such an amicable relationship. They always seemed to be at each other's throats. Yet there she was, sat amongst them, jovially discussing her first real day as a teacher.

But she felt like she had let someone down; Hettie. Her young cousin had not expected to see her and she had just brushed her aside like an irritating bug in front of the whole school. Her heart sank at the memory of Hettie's face as Miss Cackle had told them both, "Regardless of your relationship outside of the school, you are both here to work and learn."

Hettie's expression was that of sadness and disappointment, but what did she expect? She _was_ there to learn, as Mildred was there to teach.

Mildred found herself in the teacher's bedroom corridor and she made her way back to her chambers to prepare for the day ahead.

* * *

Constance sat at her dressing table as she heard light footsteps outside her bedroom door; Mildred going to bed. The girl had really proven herself today, she was proud of her. She had dealt with Miss Cackle's meeting well, being told she was not allowed to acknowledge the fact that she and Henrietta were family unless it was absolutely necessary.

She began to unpin her hair but on top of a pile of potions books an unopened envelope was glaring at her, begging to be opened. She shook her head, dismissing it. It was only pompous Pentangle, begging her for another game of chess and a glass of sherry. The woman was gloating, thinking that the reason Constance had only sent a short reply was because she was licking her wounds because she lost their last game. It wasn't that at all.

Perhaps if she was to leave the letter unopened the irritating little pigeon would leave her be.

Her hair now hanging loose around her waist, she ran her fingers through it and took a deep breath. She was fighting her natural instinct; she wanted to know what Pentangle had to say, she wanted to know if there was anything interesting going on in the community. Yet there she was; a letter received two days ago and still unopened. Perhaps one look wouldn't hurt? She thought to herself as she picked up the envelope and looked at the perfectly straight handwriting.

She tore the envelope carefully and unfolded the letter.

 _Dear Constance,_

 _What do you mean you aren't interested in what I have to say? Stop sulking, I'll bring the game to you. I may even go easy on you, considering you would be my hostess._

Constance's stomach jolted sickeningly. Phyllis Pentangle come to Cackle's Academy? It was bad enough when she came for a work related visit but Pentangle was sure to gloat if it was social, she would probably overstay her welcome. Miss Cackle was a patient woman but she and Phyllis had never seen eye to eye for as long as Constance could remember.

 _I'll be at Cackle's for Halloween. Let old Amelia know. See you then._

She slammed the letter on her dressing table The woman was adamant about having that bloody rematch! She was like a dog with a bone, or perhaps more fittingly an owl with a mouse.

There was a soft tap on the door which made her head snap up, averting her eyes from the now crumpled piece of paper, she called out, "Who is it?"

"It's me." Said a familiar voice very quietly.

Constance made her way to the door and opened it slightly, seeing a tanned blonde in front of her.

"Imogen, I-"

"I know you're probably going to bed but I need to speak to you about something." Imogen gave her no choice, she was across the threshold before she could argue with her.

Constance turned to Imogen as she closed the door, "What seems to be the problem?"

Imogen walked over to the black armchair by the window and sat down. When Constance saw her face properly in the candlelight she knew instantly something was wrong; Imogen's usually gleeful expression was replaced by a look of nervousness and concern. She sat down on the edge of her bed opposite the gym mistress who was beginning to bite her fingernails.

"The other day on the way to the village... Miss Hardbroom, I-" The younger woman broke herself off, her voice cracking, "This is a mistake. I'm sorry."

She began to make her way back to the door. Constance remained where she was, her hands folded in her lap, "Whatever it is, Miss Drill, if it's important enough for you to visit me at this hour then I assure you it is not a mistake."

Imogen stood by the door, looking into the dark eyes that had turned to her; those beautiful deep brown eyes... The eyes that had haunted her dreams since she had come back from her holiday with Serge.

"I..." She came back into the room again. Constance stood and walked towards her, towering over the petite blonde, "I enjoyed our chat that day, I really did."

Constance raised her eyebrows. Imogen let a slight smile appear on her lips; her heart in her throat, beating at one hundred miles per hour as the dark woman's lip parted.

"Is that it?" Constance asked in her harsh voice.

Imogen looked taken aback. Her face grew warmer as she felt the blood pumping into her cheeks. She knew she shouldn't have said anything. She should have left it as it was. She made her way to the door, without wishing the witch goodnight, walking out into the cold stone corridor.

Constance remained where she was, staring at the door that Imogen had just stepped through.

"I enjoyed it too." She whispered almost inaudibly, a pink flush appearing on her pale cheeks.

* * *

 _Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, I am so, so happy that you are enjoying the story. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter too. I know, really, it should have been broken up into multiple chapters, but each section was a bit too short in my opinion to justify being its own chapter. So there we have it.  
_

 _Please leave a review to let me know what you think. I hope you enjoyed this chapter._


	7. Caught In The Act

Mildred stretched as her alarm clock rang the next morning. Her dark hair was tangled around her head in a mass of knots and Tabby was curled up beside her purring loudly in his sleep. She blinked slowly as the first beams of pale sunlight streamed through her narrow bedroom window, reaching over to switch off her alarm clock.

She could hear the gentle birdsong in the woods. She longed to see the school grounds, craved to hear the rushing of the water in the river near the village.

She climbed out of bed and got dressed into a pink sweater and a pair of thick black leggings. Tabby had woken up and had started nuzzling at Mildred's legs, meowing hoarsely.

"Hungry, Tabs?" Mildred asked as she bent down to scratch behind her cat's ears. He let out a deep purr. Mildred smiled, standing up and going over to the desk in the corner of her room where she had decided to keep the dry cat food. She poured Tabby a bowl of his biscuits and left her room, walking into the deserted corridor and heading towards the pond in the grounds around the school.

The castle was eerily quiet; there were no signs of life except for the black cats belonging to the students returning to their rooms after a long night of hunting mice. If Mildred didn't know any better she would have thought she was the only human in the castle.

A door creaked opened behind Mildred, "Good morning, Miss Drill," she said quickly as the gym mistress emerged from her room wearing a pair of black running shorts, a thin vest and a blue fleece.

"Oh hello, Mildred," Miss Drill cleared her throat, "Up bright and early, I see."

As Miss Drill walked briskly beside her, Mildred could see that her eyes were red and sore-looking. The skin around her eyes was swollen, as though she had crying for most of the night.

"Yes, I thought I'd go for a walk," then without thinking, she asked, "Are you okay?"

Miss Drill let out a deep sigh and sniffed, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." She pulled her fleece close around her, "Just trying to get used to this place again. You forget how draughty it is here when you've been away for a few weeks."

Mildred smiled, "I know that feeling," she remembered waking up at three o'clock that morning, shivering, pulling the blankets on her bed close around her. Despite how many throws she put over her duvet, how many hot water bottles she had used, Mildred was still frozen solid.

"I'm going into the village to get the morning paper," Said Miss Drill as they reached Walker's Gate, "Would you like to come?"

Mildred shook her head quickly. She was yearning to explore the forest, to reacquaint herself with the woods she had known so well when she was at school.

"Okay then, well I'll see you later." And with that Miss Drill took off through the overgrown dirt track heading towards the village.

X

"Wake up, Mona!" Henrietta was hammering furiously on her friend's bedroom door.

The door swung open swiftly, revealing the small, wide eyed red head.

"It's not even eight o'clock. What's wrong?" Despite her comment about the time, Mona was already dressed and appeared ready for the day ahead.

Hettie brushed passed her friend and walked into the room. It was smaller than Hettie's room, with posters covering the walls; periodic tables, star charts, pictures of space shuttles.

"About Mildred-"

"Miss Hubble." Corrected Mona, as Hettie sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the starry throw over her lap.

"-I was thinking about having a walk down to the potions lab. I'm trying to get some ideas about how we could help her to loosen up a bit."

Mona's wide green eyes widened further as her expression changed from annoyance to shock, "Hettie, I am not helping you drug a teacher!"

"You wouldn't need to help me, you would be keeping a look out."

Mona rolled her eyes, "I don't like this, Hettie," she took a deep breath, "But I am your friend..."

"So?" Hettie asked expectantly, leaning forward, pulling the throw closer to her chest.

"Fine, I'll keep a look out. But that's it!" Mona glared at her friend, "If we get in trouble for this, Hettie—"

"We won't. I've got it all taken care of." Said Hettie, throwing the blanket aside and standing up, "So are you coming?"

"Now?! Hettie, it's nearly time for breakfast. There'll be teachers downstairs!"

Mona wasn't wrong. As she and Hettie tiptoed down the creaky wooden staircase they could hear footsteps coming from the entrance hall. They crouched behind the banister to hide from view.

"Miss Cackle!" Mona hissed in Hettie's ear as the short, grey haired headmistress came bobbing into view behind the banister, her bat-like travelling cloak swishing around her ankles as she walked briskly to her office. Mona doubted whether she had seen her headmistress move so quickly.

Hettie hushed her friend, holding a finger to her lips, "She can't see us, Mona. Calm down."

Her friend gulped nervously. Then, nodding to each other, the pair continued to walk quietly down the stairs. Hettie took Mona's hand reassuringly, guiding her friend to the potion lab.

"All you have to do is wait here. If you see any of the teachers just distract them." Hettie whispered as Mona sat down in the inner courtyard, underneath one of the potion lab's windows.

She watched as Hettie opened the potion lab door which creaked ominously. Hettie winced at the sound. Then she closed the door behind her and Mona waited.

She could hear her friend scuttling about in one of Miss Hardbroom's many cabinets, looking for a recipe that Mona doubted the fearsome potions teacher would even own.

She folded her hands in her lap, picking at her cuticles. Her mind moved absently to Miss Cackle. She wondered where the headmistress had been at such an early hour and why she appeared to be in such a hurry to return to the castle. Perhaps she had gone out for a walk and had forgotten something.

"What are you doing out here, girl?" A voice barked from the spiral staircase.

Mona flinched in her seat at the unexpected noise, looking up at the woman who had been occupying her thoughts, "Miss Cackle, I'm-"

Miss Cackle squinted, she wasn't wearing her glasses, "Get out my sight. You're a nuisance!"

Mona didn't have time to argue with Miss Cackle who was now rushing to the potion lab.

"I wouldn't go in there, Miss Cackle!" Mona cried, trying with all her might to come up with a reason as to why the headmistress couldn't go in.

The headmistress turned, her eyes narrowed as she tried to see clearly, "What do you mean?"

"I—err..." Mona stammered, reaching for the door handle of the classroom, "Erm..."

Miss Cackle swatted Mona's hand away from the door handle and stepped in to the classroom just as Hettie pulled a dusty leather-bound book from the top shelf of a dark wooden cabinet.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, GIRL?!" Miss Cackle screeched. Mona had never seen her so wound up.

Hettie jumped, dropping the book which thudded dully on the stone floor. She turned to look at Miss Cackle, "I was just... organising Miss Hardbroom's herbs."

Miss Cackle's eyes narrowed even further as she rounded on Hettie, "I don't know what you're trying to achieve, young lady, but whatever it is you need to forget about it. Do I make myself clear? And that goes for you as well!" She turned, glaring at Mona who was stood in the doorway.

Both girls chorused, "Yes, Miss Cackle." The headmistress escorted them out of the potion lab and returned to wherever she had been before.

The girls headed towards the great hall when they heard the breakfast bell rang, lining up in front of the long table in front of the fireplace. They stood behind a group of second years who were laughing loudly, but no words were exchanged between the two fourth year girls.

"Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed, then," Hettie mumbled after a long silence.

"I've never seen her so wound up." Commented Mona as Miss Bat handed her a bowl of cereal.

Hettie took a plate of pancakes and she sat down at one of the dining tables. Mona looked at her through her long eyelashes as she took a mouthful of her breakfast.

"I told you it was a bad idea and look at what happened," stated Mona, taking a spoonful of her crunchy cereal, "Why couldn't you have just left it alone?"

Hettie shrugged, eyeing some of the students as they walked passed. She glared at a blonde girl; Belladonna Bindweed, one of the only people Hettie could say she truly loathed. Hettie put down her knife and fork as she leant back in her chair, looking at Mona.

"What?" Mona said loudly. She could almost hear the cogs turning in her friend's head as her dark eyes gazed deeply into her own. The words were trembling on her lips, waiting to be said, but then Hettie picked up her knife and fork again, taking another mouthful of her breakfast.

* * *

 _I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. Please leave a review_


	8. Every Man

Miss Drill returned from the village with a spring in her step. The fresh morning air had refreshed her senses. She no longer felt the tears stinging her eyes, the weight of shame was no longer resting on her shoulders. She felt alive again.

The morning paper folded under her arm, she strolled happily into the castle and walked into the staff room. Miss Cackle was sat sipping carefully on her piping hot cup of tea, her green glasses on the tip of her nose. Then she saw the woman hunched over a pile of exercise books, her pen a blur against the white paper.

"Good morning Miss Cackle," Miss Drill said as she sat down, unfolding the newspaper and passing it to the headmistress, "Miss Hardbroom."

The potions teacher said nothing as she continued to mark her students' work. Miss Drill watched her for a few moments, slamming book after book on the table beside her as she worked through the swiftly decreasing pile of exercise books.

A hand touched her arm, making her move her gaze to Miss Cackle, "Are you alright, Imogen?" She asked gently, "You look quite tired."

Miss Drill nodded, "I'm absolutely fine. I went for an early walk this morning."

Miss Cackle smiled softly, her eyes twinkling in the sunlight that poured through the staff room window, "Lovely. Nothing like a breath of fresh air to revitalise the senses. Don't you agree, Miss Hardbroom?"

Miss Hardbroom grumbled an inaudible response as she worked, not raising her eyes from the pen that rushed across the exercise books.

Miss Cackle stood up, "I need to file some paperwork. I will see you both in assembly."

Miss Drill's heart sank as the door closed with a soft click behind the headmistress. She turned her gaze to the window, blinking against the dusty beam of light. She pulled the newspaper towards her and pretended to read the front page, listening to the harsh scratching of pen against paper and the repetitive ticking of the clock on the wall.

She sighed deeply, turning to look at the ebony haired Miss Hardbroom who was now marking the final exercise book.

She could bear the silence no longer, "I'm sorry about what I said last night." Miss Drill rushed.

The clock ticked loudly on the wall, echoing through the staff room like the beating of a drum. Miss Hardbroom seemed to consciously slow down her marking. She cleared her throat loudly, still writing comments on the students' work. Miss Drill watched her, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Miss Drill." She said coldly as she eventually put the final exercise book on top of her mountain of work. She raised her dark eyes. Miss Drill felt like she was in a furnace as her gaze met the potion teacher's. Before she could respond, however, Miss Hardbroom stood up and strode out of the staff room, her marking gripped tightly in her arms.

The door closed loudly behind her as she left. Miss Drill waited for the clicking of her heels to grow fainter. When she could no longer hear Miss Hardbroom's footfalls she sank in her seat, rubbing her face, trying to cool down her scarlet cheeks.

The woman was an impenetrable fortress, a block of ice, a stone cold statue. She was never the sentimental type, there was no use in Imogen pretending she was. She had shook off and crushed every man who had ever admired her. Every man who had ever wanted to lay a finger on her perfectly carved form, every man who ever wanted to run his fingers through the length of cool, dark silk that was so often pulled back into a painfully tight bun. The men who had admired Constance Hardbroom had never succeeded in achieving her affection; she grasped her shield firmly, deflecting those she did not wish to allow near her.

So deep in her own thoughts, Imogen had not noticed the potions mistress had appeared behind her. Her mouth opened slightly, gentle words caressing her burgundy lips. Miss Drill cleared her throat, trying to clear her head. Miss Hardbroom folded her arms again, vanishing as quickly as she appeared as the younger woman turned in her seat, standing up.

She took a deep breath, striding out of the staffroom, her head held high. A day of teaching in the great outdoors would clear her head. She needed to stop the sweet, toxic thoughts flooding her mind before they consumed her _._

* * *

 _Lots of HB!Drill angsty awkwardness in this chapter. Loved writing this chapter, please let me know what you think!  
_


	9. Art And Fury

_Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter and please let me know what you think._

* * *

Five short weeks had passed since Mildred had started working at Cackle's. She couldn't believe that it was nearly time to organise the Halloween celebrations as she sat down with Miss Cackle in the staff room on an unusually frosty October morning. The two witches drank tea and ate biscuits whilst they played a game of tennis with their ideas and creations.

Mildred had proven her abilities as a teacher. Miss Cackle could trust her to create a beautiful spectacle for the Grand Wizard and for the rest of the school to behold. The headmistress observed her staff member with fascination as the girl presented some rather unusual sketches of what the fourth year class could do for their display.

"I appreciate the effort you've put into all of this, Mildred," Miss Cackle stated, her green horn-rimmed spectacles sat on the end of her nose as she held a drawing of a broomstick aerobatic display with gymnastic ribbons attached to the girls flying upon them, "Some of the ideas are wonderful. This one for example," She passed the sketch she was holding to Mildred, "Is one of my favourites."

Mildred's cheeks reddened slightly as she took the drawing from her headmistress. She examined it briefly, seeing the image moving in her mind's eye; girls on their brooms, circling and performing loop-the-loops as ribbons flew behind them. Ribbons of orange, violet and black; rich colours and tones that reflected the element and root of the season. Mildred knew that the teachers would like the use of traditional tones in the performance.

"I'm really glad you like this one, Miss Cackle. It's my favourite too."

Miss Cackle smiled gently at Mildred, "Well then," she took the drawing from Mildred once more, "As we are both firmly set on this display, perhaps I shall ask the others how they feel about it in the staff meeting during first break."

Mildred pushed back her seat, which creaked ominously as she stood up. She said goodbye to Miss Cackle and left the staff room to attend to her class; her cousin's class, the fourth years. Her best student was Crescentmoon Winterchild, a Hedgewitch with an extraordinary eye for colour and a knack for precise detail in both abstract art and realism.

She reached the classroom door and opened it, greeting her students who chorused the usual "Good morning, Miss Hubble," which was now so familiar to her ears.

"Good morning," Mildred said brightly to the class as she dropped her bag behind her desk, "Today I want you to create something that scares you. You can use any method you want; clay, painting, drawing, an improvisation. Something creative to show your deepest fears."

The girls mumbled amongst themselves briefly, Mildred cleared her throat.

"Is there a problem?" She asked the room which fell silent as the words escaped her lips. She caught a brown haired girl's eye, "Cynthia Horrocks, perhaps you could tell me what the issue is."

The girl looked down into her lap, "It's only..." She looked to her side at a plumper girl with beautiful, long, golden hair; Belladonna Bindweed, "Surely being scared of what we create is a bad thing, Miss Hubble."

Mildred sighed, sitting on the edge of her desk. She could understand where Cynthia was coming from. She knew only too well how hard it was to confront her fears. This castle alone had made her face her fears of the dark, of heights...

"You're right in some ways, Cynthia," Mildred said softly, looking around the room at the girls, "But finding beauty in what you fear most makes it easier for you to deal with those fears." She returned her gaze to Cynthia.

"When I was a student here I was scared of most things I found in this castle, especially Miss Hardbroom when I was in my first year," The girls laughed, "But when you learn to appreciate the things that make your stomach flip with fear it helps you become a stronger person."

The girls nodded appreciatively at her honesty and stood up to gather their art tools; some of the girls had decided to create paper maché models using blown up balloons and empty cans, others had grabbed canvases of varying sizes. Mildred spotted Crescentmoon, or Cressie as Henrietta and Mona called her, who had taken a mass of pipe cleaners and was bending them and tying them together.

Mildred walked around the room, observing the girls as they worked. Some of the artwork left a lot to be desired; Belladonna, who was a promising student in her other studies but struggled with art, had piled a mass of old, wet newspapers on top of each other in the hope of it turning into paper maché.

Hettie was gifted in art; she had already begun sketching on her canvas; a figure hunched behind a doorway, their knees tightly pressed against their chest.

"What's this, then?" Asked Mildred warmly, looking at her cousin's work.

Hettie rolled her eyes, still drawing out her sketch "It's supposed to be the fear of being abandoned."

Mildred smiled at the younger witch. It was perfect; the isolation, the feeling of loneliness from Hettie's character. The sensation was rippling off the canvas.

She peered over Mona's shoulder at what she was creating; a paper maché sculpture.

"And Mona?"

Mona looked up at her teacher. Mona wasn't the greatest student in her class, but she wasn't the worst by any means. She appeared to be forming some kind of ball, her green balloon was already half covered in paper maché.

"The end of the universe, Miss." Mona said bluntly. Mildred looked slightly confused as her student went on, "When the sun dies it will expand, engulfing everything around it. It'll form a black hole and that's basically the end of everything, for us at least."

"Let's hope that doesn't happen for a while, then."

"Oh it won't happen for a few million years, Miss." And with that, Mona resumed pushing pieces of mushy paper onto her balloon.

The bell rang to signal the end of the lesson and the beginning of break time. Mildred made her way to the staff room. The wooden door was ajar as she approached it and she entered.

Miss Bat was sat with a bunch of flowers in her lap, she was nibbling on the edge of a rose petal. Miss Drill was flicking through a sports magazine. Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom were going over some paperwork in low voices. Mildred couldn't quite see what they were doing, for she was still stood in the doorway. Miss Hardbroom looked up at her.

"Sit down, Mildred!" She barked. Mildred did as she was told, closing the door behind her and taking her usual seat at the staff table; beside Miss Drill.

Recently the gym mistress had been dressing herself differently. Rather than wearing her usual Reebok crop tops and her tight fitting running trousers, she had taken to wearing suits. Although this was impractical for her job, it didn't stop her from running around with the students as she usually did.

Miss Cackle cleared her throat, "Right ladies, today we are to discuss the Halloween celebrations. I've put Mildred in charge of the proceedings and she has come up with some excellent ideas, one of which I think will be palatable for all our tastes."

She picked up the paperwork she had been going over with Miss Hardbroom and passed it around to Miss Bat. She put down her rose and beamed at Mildred as she examined the drawings.

"You really have an eye for detail, Miss Hubble," Miss Bat passed the sketches to Miss Drill who agreed with the chanting teacher, adding, "It's almost like the girls are lifting off the page."

"Mildred saved the school with a drawing in her third year, Davina," Miss Cackle explained, "It's a shame you were in Mongolia at the time, it was a wonderful thing to behold."

Miss Bat looked slightly confused. How could a drawing save a school? Miss Cackle explained about The Mythiocopia, The Uninvited and Prince Percy, who had been a sketch and had been brought to life by a unique magic that only Mildred possessed.

"So you could make the pupils in this drawing fly off the page?" Miss Bat asked curiously, her grey eyes shimmering like stars.

"She could, Miss Bat, but I think this school has enough pupils at the moment, don't you?" Sneered Miss Hardbroom dismissively.

Miss Cackle pretended she didn't hear Miss Hardbroom's comment, "So we're decided then? We all like the idea of a ribboned broomstick display?"

Miss Bat, Miss Drill and Mildred all nodded. Miss Hardbroom simply said "hmm." when Miss Cackle looked at her for her response.

"Then it's settled. Mildred, for the rest of the week you will be going over the performance with the fourth year girls. Are there any questions?"

Miss Hardbroom shifted in her seat, putting her hand in her pocket and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper. She passed it along to Miss Cackle who examined it closely. Her blue eyes widened, her forehead furrowed and she burst out of her chair faster than Mildred had ever seen her move before.

"PHYLLIS PENTANGLE?!" Erupted Miss Cackle, "Why couldn't you have said something sooner, Constance?!"

"Well I-" The potions teacher's lowered her head almost submissively. She had been expecting a negative response, Miss Pentangle wasn't exactly well liked at Cackle's, but she had not expected Miss Cackle to explode the way she had done.

"Why would I want the headmistress of our rival school attending our Halloween display?" Shouted Miss Cackle, "I hope you didn't invite her, please tell me you didn't invite her!"

Miss Hardbroom straightened herself up again, "Well she just invited herself, Miss Cackle. I've written to her to try and put her off the idea but she is adamant about attending."

Miss Cackle heaved a heavy sigh and flopped back into her seat. Her cheeks were scarlet with rage as she turned to Mildred,"Well, this will have to be the best Halloween celebration this school has ever seen."

* * *

 _I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know what you think. Next chapter will be coming shortly :)_


	10. Anything Can Happen On Halloween

Moonlight streamed through the potions lab's narrow windows as the castle slept. Not a sound could be heard except for the faint hooting of the owls in the forest and the rustling of the trees in the gentle midnight breeze.

A figure shrouded in a thick dark cloak sat flicking through a heavily worn book at the front desk of the classroom. Her thin, bony fingers traced paragraph after paragraph, searching for the right information; the knowledge that would perhaps give her what she desired.

She smirked as her eyes fell on the spell she had been searching for.

" _Alverix Orcus, Transfrogomorphis, Illio Allio, Personas Transferrus,"_ the woman mumbled as she tried to remember the incantation. She repeated it a few times, then satisfied she had remembered the spell, leant back in the chair smugly.

The book she had been reading, 'A History of Transformation Magic" had been shoved to the back of one of the cabinets in the potions lab. The cabinet hadn't even been locked; this was all too easy. How could _that woman_ , the witch who had proven to be the most powerful of her age, forget to put a simple binding spell on a cabinet drawer? Even _she_ had remembered to put a locking spell on the door. She did not wish to be discovered in the castle, at least as she appeared at the moment.

The whole plan was going to go smoothly, providing she could keep intercepting the post going to and from the academy and as long as the Pentangle woman was still attending the Halloween display.

At that thought, the classroom's door handle rattled. The woman whipped around, her cloak flying. Who could possibly want to be in the lab at this hour? There was a jingling of keys and the lock turned slowly. The woman sped across the room, hiding behind a bench at the back of the room, her view of the woman entering the room through the creaking door obscured by a beaten and cracked iron cauldron.

The woman who had entered the room looked around, a weary expression on that pale, bony face. _Her..._ The cloaked woman could see the hem of the tall witch's dressing gown as she walked to the front of the room. She opened one of the cupboards at the front of the classroom and pulled out a bottle of blue liquid, which she uncorked and took a sip from.

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the taller witch left the classroom, locking the door behind her. When she could no longer hear the faint footsteps, she emerged from behind the bench, eyeing the front desk. The witch had not noticed the book open on her desk; perhaps it was too dark for her to see it lying there innocently in the moonlight.

X

Constance couldn't sleep. She was lying in her bed, her hair draped around her shoulders. Morgana, her beautiful black cat, was sleeping peacefully at the foot of the bed whilst her mistress tossed and turned in a fight to find a comfortable position.

She had failed miserably.

She heaved a heavy sigh and pushed herself out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown which she had folded neatly on the chair beside her bed, tying it tightly at the waist. Perhaps a walk down to the potions lab for a small dose of her Anti-Anxiety potion, her own brew, was what she needed.

She had suffered from anxiety for a very long time. Her mother had pushed her, her father had pushed her, her college tutor had pushed her. All her life she had been pushed; pushed to the limit. She had to be the best, they had told her and she had become so used to being the best that she could dance to no other tune.

Her college tutor, an iceberg of a woman called Hecketty Broomhead, had been brutal with her. If she didn't achieve the best grades in the class she would receive extra work, detention and have meeting after meeting with that odious woman. And she had had many meetings with her, normally ending with Constance being rapped with the cane for speaking out of turn. Towards the end of her time with her, however, the punishments had been more... Severe. Constance shuddered at the thought. The fear of failure had been drummed into her from an early age and today she felt like she had failed Miss Cackle.

She had delayed telling the headmistress about Phyllis' visit. Despite, however, the two schools being rivals, Miss Cackle was keeping a surprisingly level head. Her outburst in the morning staff meeting was unexpected to say the least, but Constance could understand the headmistress' frustration.

She passed by Imogen's room; she was probably sleeping. When she and Imogen had been left in the staff room, she had wanted to say so many things to her. Yet when the opportunity came, the words didn't. Her mind was left blank as she marked her class's work. She had left the room and had reappeared for a moment for a glimpse of the blonde. She wanted to say something, but all that she could muster was an almost silent, "That day meant a lot to me."

She winced at the cool sensation of the stone floor against her feet as she walked carefully through the corridors of the castle, trying not to awaken the girls with the light of her lantern. She lowered it as she reached the ground floor of the castle; walking with a faster pace towards her classroom.

She turned the door handle. How strange, she thought. She couldn't remember locking the door. She gave it a rattle just in case the door had become jammed, as it so often did these days, after the many accidents that had happened in that room; spillages of the elixir of life, giant fish emerging from cauldrons...

No, it was definitely locked. She put her lantern down beside the door and took a set of keys from the pocket of her dressing gown. She fumbled slightly as she found the right key and turned it in the lock, blinking against the brilliant white moon that hung in the dark night sky. The door creaked open and she walked to the front of the class, opening the glass cupboard which was filled with potions, ointments and elixirs. She found the Anti-Anxiety potion, uncorked the bottle and took a sip of the blue liquid within; the warm nectar burning her chest like whiskey as she drank it. She replaced it in the cupboard and left the room, locking the door behind her, making her way back up to bed. She was expecting to have a peaceful night's sleep.

X

The next morning the fourth year girls were up at first light, gathered in the courtyard to practice their Halloween performance. Each girl had hold of their broomstick, Crescentmoon Winterchild had collected some ribbons of varying lengths to practice with. She had handed them out to the rest of the class while they waited for Miss Hubble and Miss Drill to arrive in the courtyard. Miss Drill, who had started teaching drama and dance alongside her usual P.E lessons, had agreed to help Miss Hubble with some of the trickier choreography the girls would need to do to impress the Grand Wizard and now Miss Pentangle from Pentangle's Academy.

Miss Cackle had called an emergency assembly to announce the arrival of the rival school's headmistress and she had not seemed too pleased.

"Still not as irritated as she was the other morning, though," Mona had commented to Cressie as they left the great hall after the assembly.

Cressie was now stood with Mona and Hettie, discussing the Halloween display in excited voices.

"I suppose you'll fall off that wonky broom of yours, Hubble, especially when _your cousin's_ the one organising the display," Belladonna sneered as she walked by with her friend, Cynthia Horrocks.

"Shut up, Belladonna," Snapped Hettie as Miss Drill and Mildred walked into the courtyard.

Miss Drill had suffered a knee injury before Hettie, Cressie and Mona's first term at Cackle's. She had been on a rock climbing holiday with her boyfriend, Serge. Before Miss Drill's return, they had been taught by the scatterbrained Miss Swoop, a former student of Pentangle's. Miss Cackle had intended to keep her on permanently, fearing that Miss Drill wouldn't be able to return to the school, at least as a teacher. Miss Swoop, however, had been offered a job as a spells teacher at Salamander Witch School at the end of Hettie's second year and she had jumped at the opportunity to escape the beady eye of Miss Hardbroom. No sooner had Miss Swoop announced that she was leaving, an application form arrived in the post from Miss Drill. She was accepted back without question.

"Right girls!" Miss Drill announced, "First things first, I need you all to tie your ribbons to the ends of your brooms."

The girls did as they were told, each tying the thick ribbons to the very tips of the bristles of their brooms.

"We need to practice loop-the-loops and nosedives which are quite tricky if you aren't used to them," Mildred called to the girls as they commanded their brooms to hover. A collective tapping of broomsticks echoed around the courtyard as the girls took to the air.

Cressie had never been a very confident flyer. As she took to the air she called to Mona, "Do we have to do the loop-the-loops?"

Mona scowled disapprovingly at her friend, "Cressie, you need to get over yourself."

Cressie gulped as she began to practice her manoeuvres. She could circle around perfectly, she could even do the nosedives, but when it came to the loop-the-loops...

"AHH!" She screeched as she landed on her bottom on the cold, wet, stone courtyard in front of Mildred who offered her a hand up. Cressie dusted herself down and said, "Sorry, Miss Hubble. I struggle with the loops. Can't I just sit and watch this show?"

"Don't worry, Cressie. Why don't you try circling around the others while they're doing that? That way you're still part of the display, but you aren't stressed out." Mildred said kindly, patting Cressie on the shoulder. With a heavy sigh, the girl took off again, joining her friends in the air.

"What a good idea, Mildred!" Miss Drill exclaimed, holding her clipboard tightly against her chest, "No wonder Miss Cackle put you in charge."

Mildred beamed at Miss Drill as the two teachers watched the students practice the routine one final time before the school bell rang to call the girls in for their breakfasts.

"Fancy a cup of tea, Mil?" Miss Drill asked as the two teachers walked into the castle.

"As long as it's not Miss Bat's recent concoction."

Miss Drill chuckled, "She doesn't even drink them herself. Raspberry and vanilla. Bleurgh!" She face twisted as though she could taste the sickly tasting blend of tea at the back of her throat.

The staff room door opened just as they approached it. A pair of rather singed looking first years stood before them; their pale purple blouses were blackened at the sleeves and their faces were covered in soot. Both girls looked rather sheepish as they scuttled away. The two teachers looked at each other and then pushed the wooden door open.

Miss Bat was busy writing a new chant, sipping what smelt like a traditional mint tea, her baton in her hand.

"Good morning, Imogen. Mildred, how are the fourth years?" Miss Cackle dusted her hands on her handkerchief which was thick with soot from the first year girls that she had seen only a moment before.

"They're brilliant. One girl does seem to be having an issue on her broom, but—"

"I suppose _this girl_ is Crescentmoon Winterchild?" an icy voice came from the doorway behind them.

Miss Hardbroom brushed passed Mildred and Miss Drill and sat in the seat opposite the window; dropping a pile of heavy books loudly on the staff room table, startling Miss Bat.

"Was that really necessary?!" Miss Bat squealed, waving her conductor's baton at the dark haired witch.

"Goodness me, Miss Bat. I hope you aren't suffering from palpitations again, I thought your long holiday in Mongolia would have solved that." She sneered, pouring herself a cup of the tea that was in the teapot; it looked like nettle. She looked around at Mildred, "Crescentmoon is an interesting girl but flying is most certainly not her forte. She should be more confident now she's in the fourth year."

"Hedge Witches don't use their broomsticks to get from A to B like you and I, Miss Hardbroom" Informed Miss Cackle, "They prefer to travel on foot; to collect herbs and to feel a connection to nature."

"I like the sound of that!" Miss Bat cried, swaying at her music stand, in a world of her own. "In harmony with Mother Earth, the chanting of the chaffinch, the rustling of leaves in the breeze."

"It's nonsense if you ask me. Any real witch would use a broomstick," Miss Hardbroom sipped her tea as Miss Drill and Mildred sat down. Miss Drill poured herself and Mildred a cup of tea.

For a few moments there was silence in the staff room, except for the scratching of pen against paper as Miss Bat continued to write her chant, and the sound of sipping and slurping as the teachers drank from their mugs.

"So how many days have you got left to sort out the fourth years?" Miss Drill asked, turning to her friend.

"Halloween is on Thursday so three days."

"I'm sure you will do an excellent job, Mildred. There will be no Ethel Hallow to jinx your broomstick this time and no Agatha to try and turn the whole school into frogs or snails." Miss Cackle smiled, chuckling to herself, "Any news of when Miss Pentangle will arrive, Constance?"

Miss Hardbroom's eyelids fluttered slightly as she looked up at Miss Cackle, "I... Haven't heard from her since the last time we spoke of the matter, Miss Cackle. I would expect her to be here for Halloween night."

"Well we will have the girls greet her at the gates as they would with any other visitor."

The bell rang to signal the end of breakfast. Mildred stood up with Miss Drill and the two left the staffroom, "I would love to see the look on Pentangle's face when she sees our display. It will put their last one to shame." Miss Drill elbowed Mildred gently in the ribs as they walked up towards the art classroom.

"Something is bound to go wrong, I'm in charge of the class."

"You're not fourteen anymore, Mildred. Like Miss Cackle said there will be no one around to sabotage you. Ethel is long gone and Agatha wouldn't be able to do anything without breaking the witches code." Miss Drill had put her arm around Mildred's shoulder at this point, trying to comfort her.

"She's found a loophole before. Remember when she pretended to be Miss Cackle?"

Miss Drill rolled her eyes, "Stop worrying, Mildred. I'm sure everything will be okay!" She let go of her friend and turned to look at her. She could see the look of fear in her eyes, "The girls are brilliant, you are brilliant!"

Mildred wasn't so sure. It was Cackle's Academy they were talking about. Something always went wrong and it usually involved Mildred somehow. They stopped outside of Mildred's classroom, "I'll let you get to your class. I'm going for a cross country run with the second years."

"Have fun!" Mildred called after Miss Drill as she saw the blonde sprinting down the corridor. When she could no longer hear Miss Drill's footsteps, Mildred turned the door handle of her classroom and stepped inside. She walked quickly over to her desk, past the hanging displays and paintings done by the classes, and sat down. Despite how hard Miss Drill had tried to make her feel better about the display, she was sure something was going to go wrong. Anything that went wrong at Cackle's normally involved her. She was fearing the worst; anything could happen on Halloween...

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 _Thank you for reading this chapter. I know not a lot happened but it is kind of building up for the events to come in some of the later chapters.  
_

 _I hope you enjoyed reading, please leave a review :)_


	11. Thawing Ice

That afternoon, Miss Cackle had arranged a staff meeting to discuss the Halloween celebrations. She had insisted on all staff being present, which meant Mildred had to coax Miss Bat out of the staff room cupboard with a bowl of fruit salad. She had returned to the cupboard after her fright from Miss Hardbroom earlier that morning and during the meeting the two continued to bicker, earning a few chuckles from both Miss Drill and Mildred which in turn earned quite a few death-glares from the formidable potions mistress.

The staff had finally decided that as the crowds were gathering in the forest Sylvia Ravensworth and Hazel Hembane from the second year class were going to perform "Punkie Night" a traditional chant and one of Miss Bat's favourites. Miss Hardbroom disapproved of the style the chant was going to be performed in, however. She had sneered at the notion of having a heavy metal cover but to keep the peace, Miss Cackle had insisted that the girls perform the chant as they wished.

Mildred and Miss Drill filled in the staff on the progress of the fourth years and their broomstick flying display. Miss Cackle was pleased with how well the girls had responded to Mildred's guidance and Miss Drill's choreography.

"I'm glad I put the pair of you together, well done." She said, beaming at the two younger members of staff.

Miss Cackle moved swiftly onto the music that would be played at the end of the ceremony. There was going to be a feast and dancing all night. Miss Bat had asked for some modern music for the girls, a bit of upbeat music rather than the boring traditional instrumental pieces.

"It's bad enough we have to abide your second years shrieking at the beginning of the ceremony, Davina. We do not want to listen to anymore of that ridiculous ' _music'_ that the girls listen to these days." Miss Hardbroom barked at the chanting teacher.

Mildred could see that Miss Bat was just about ready to rush into the cupboard again, so she said quickly, "Maybe we could mix it up. Have a few traditional songs and a few modern ones?"

Miss Cackle looked at her, her blue eyes glimmering, "What a wonderful idea, Mildred!"

Mildred blushed at the compliment from the headmistress, Miss Bat smiled at her and Miss Drill patted her on the back.

"I don't like the idea," Grumbled Miss Hardbroom, "Halloween is a traditional holiday which should be celebrated in the traditional way. We don't want the grand wizard getting the wrong idea do we, headmistress?"

Miss Cackle rose from her seat and began to pace the staff room, wrapping her pale purple cardigan around herself to keep warm, "Perhaps this year we should introduce a more modern way of celebrating to the girls. You have to admit the way we celebrate Halloween hasn't changed for many years and it is getting rather stale" Miss Bat nodded at that comment, "We shall see how the girls respond to Mildred's idea and if they like it we will keep it this way."

Miss Hardbroom rolled her eyes in frustration. She hated it when she couldn't get her way, Mildred was very aware of that fact. Her old potions teacher often took blue turns when she was a student here and no doubt she was going to go in one of her legendary huffs.

The bell rang to signal the end of break-time for the girls and the end of the meeting for the teachers.

Miss Cackle and Miss Bat walked together to their lessons; both Mildred and Miss Drill were free for this period.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" Mildred asked Miss Drill. She shook her head.

"No," She replied, glancing over at Miss Hardbroom briefly, "I need to sort something out."

Mildred raised an eyebrow at Miss Drill, what would she want with H.B? She rubbed her friend's arm and left the staff room to go to her room and finish some of her marking. Little did she know that there was someone waiting for her when she stepped into her study...

X

Miss Hardbroom was sitting, staring out of the staff room window when Miss Drill moved to sit beside her. She could smell a sweet scent on the blonde's clothing; she hardly ever wore perfume.

"I think we need to have a chat, Miss Hardbroom." Said Miss Drill, looking at the witch. Miss Hardbroom did not return her gaze immediately. She continued to watch as the rain trailed down the staff room window. Miss Drill watched the beautiful dark haired witch before her. She seemed so relaxed, her swan-like neck resting on one of her pale, long fingered hands. Miss Drill shook her head, pulling herself out of the daze. She cleared her throat.

"Yes?" Miss Hardbroom snapped, finally turning to face Miss Drill.

Miss Drill shuffled nervously in her seat. She was going to just have to spit it out, wasn't she?

The witch's eyes seemed to be x-raying her the longer she delayed speaking. Finally she blurted, "I'm not sure how to put this, but... lately I feel like I can't get you out of my head."

Miss Hardbroom blinked at her, her expression did not soften, "What does that mean, Miss Drill?"

Miss Drill furrowed her eyebrows, how could she put this?, she thought.

"If this is about what you said last month, Miss Drill, you need not say anything," Miss Hardbroom stated in her cool, crisp voice, "I understand that you've apologised, but I do not see why."

"Why what?"

Miss Hardbroom smirked, a drip of water from the ice sculpture, "Why you apologised, Miss Drill. It really wasn't necessary."

Miss Drill stared at Miss Hardbroom. She had been feeling like an idiot for the last month, feeling like she had offended the woman sat in front of her, "You mean I didn't need to feel like I'd done something to upset you these last few weeks?"

Shaking her head, Miss Hardbroom said, "You merely said you enjoyed my company. There's nothing offensive about that. It's a welcome change to being called _Hardbitch_ and _Harshbrush_ by the girls," She looked into Miss Drill's eyes; they were a very beautiful shade of green. She had never noticed that before, "I've been meaning to tell you, Imogen. I've been trying to avoid saying anything about it but I think it needs to be said." She sat up straight, "I enjoyed that day too."

Miss Drill smiled at the potions mistress. Perhaps the witch wasn't such an iceberg after all. Maybe she even felt the same. There were steel butterflies in her stomach again as their eyes met just for a moment and without realising, Miss Drill had moved her hand to one of Miss Hardbroom's which was laying absently on the table. The brunette looked down as their hands met, almost in disbelief at what was happening, but she didn't pull away.

"I know you'll probably turn me into a toad for saying this, Miss Hardbroom, but..." She took a deep breath, bracing herself, "I think I have feelings for you."

Miss Hardbroom blinked at her again and stood up, pushing her hand away.

"No." She barked, but it seemed like she was saying it to herself rather than to Miss Drill. Miss Hardbroom's eyes were wide. She had never seen her like this before.

Miss Drill stood up, walking over to the potions mistress who remained on the same spot. Their eyes locked; deep brown staring into emerald green, "What's wrong?"

Miss Hardbroom shook her head, closing her eyes. She had to hold it together, she thought, she couldn't show weakness.

 _Confidence and control_ , Mistress Broomhead had said to her. The toxic woman had haunted her during her time at college, beating the assertiveness into her. She had been quite a shy girl when she had arrived at Weirdsister College all those years ago. The moment Hecketty Broomhead set eyes on her, however, she knew she had to break her. She wanted to destroy an innocent, pure soul. During her time at college she had made a shield around herself. After her regular sessions with Mistress Broomhead were finally over, no one was allowed to get anywhere near her.

With a heavy, shaky sigh, Miss Hardbroom composed herself. She folded her arms across her chest. The blonde was still stood in front of her.

"What's wrong?" Miss Drill asked, louder this time, "Please tell me." Miss Drill touched Miss Hardbroom's arm, trying to comfort her.

She could feel the tears stinging the back of her eyes. She needed to fight against them. She could not let Broomhead win again, that woman had held her back for too long.

"Constance?" Miss Drill's voice was gentle as she held her arm, her soft hands running up and down the silk material of her sleeve.

"I'm sorry, I can't." Miss Hardbroom choked back the tears that were prickling her eyes.

Miss Drill let go of the brunette's arm. She walked past her, towards the staff room door.

"Imogen?"

She turned to face the witch. Her face was flushed. She could see her hands shaking.

Without thinking, Miss Drill went to her, wrapping both her arms around her. Miss Hardbroom relaxed in her arms, her trembling hands moving to rest around her shoulders.

"You need to tell me what's wrong, Constance." Miss Drill said finally as the two pulled away from the embrace, "Whatever it is, we need to sort it out."

X

 _Earlier that morning, during Miss Bat's chanting class, Hettie, Mona and Cressie had been wandering in the meadows just outside the school grounds. The eccentric chanting teacher had asked them to gather some wild garlic (she was obsessed with the stuff) and had armed each of the girls with a pair of thick gloves and a wicker basket. The girls had been discussing the upcoming Halloween display in excited voices when they had spotted a hooded figure standing on one of the tall hills hidden behind the school._

" _Is that-" Mona started, but her voice was swept away by the strong wind that was howling through the trees. There was a storm coming. The witches could feel it._

" _It looks like Miss Cackle, apart from the glasses." Cressie stated. She knew the headmistress had a pair of hornrimmed spectacles. The figure on the hill appeared to look just like the headmistress; thick grey hair, pale blue eyes... but her glasses had thick, round frames, with lenses that made her eyes look enormous._

" _That definitely isn't Miss Cackle," Said Hettie, "I need to tell Mildred."_

 _She dropped her basket on the ground and sprinted off towards the school._

"...And that's when I came to get you." Hettie finished, sitting cross legged on her cousin's bed.

Mildred could not believe her ears. Agatha Cackle back at Cackle's? It was against the Witch's Code, surely!

"But she won't be able to do anything. There's no rules in the Witch's Code about retaliating during Halloween, is there?"

Hettie looked confused.

Mildred explained, "When I was a student here, Agatha Cackle tried to break into the school using a loophole in the Witch's Code called The Statute of Limitation."

She went on to explain about how the loophole worked and how her and her friends had managed to thwart Agatha's plans before she managed to succeed in taking over the school.

"We need to stop her, Mildred." Hettie jumped off the bed, wanting to get into the action.

Mildred furrowed her brow, "We need to tell Miss Cackle."

The bedroom door burst open revealing two very windswept fourth years; Mona and Cressie.

"It's Agatha Cackle!" Exclaimed Hettie as her friends came towards her, "That figure on the hill was Miss Cackle's twin sister."

Mona and Cressie looked at each other and then back at their friend and Mildred.

"That would explain why she was in such a bad mood the other morning," Commented Mona. She turned to Mildred, "We bumped into her outside the potions lab a few days ago when we were looking for a spell. She was really agitated."

Again, Mildred couldn't believe what she was hearing, "How on Earth did she get into the school?" She looked at the three girls in front of her, "We need to tell Miss Cackle. She'll be back in the staff room now."

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 _Well I hope you enjoyed that chapter. Please leave a review to let me know what you think and if you would like to see anything in the story._


	12. Meet and Greet

_A/N: I'm sorry this is only a short chapter. I hope you enjoy it, all the same!_

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Mildred, Hettie, Mona and Cressie walked briskly towards the staffroom. Mildred was sure Miss Cackle would be out of her lesson by now and as the staffroom door opened, she found not only Miss Cackle in the staffroom, but also Miss Drill and Miss Hardbroom. The two younger teachers were talking in hushed voices by the window, Miss Cackle looked absorbed in a book she had borrowed from Miss Bat.

"Miss Cackle," Hettie piped up. The headmistress turned around, her glasses on the tip of her nose.

"Ah, Hettie. What brings you and your friends to the staffroom this time?" Miss Cackle smiled kindly. She put down her book, folding down the corner of the page, and pushed her glasses on top of her head.

The girls looked at each other uneasily. Then Mildred said, "They came to see me, Miss Cackle. They saw something in the field when they were with Miss Bat and I think you should know what it was."

Miss Drill and Miss Hardbroom had stopped talking and were watching the girls by the door. Miss Cackle had stood up to look at the girls. When she said nothing, but appeared to be looking at the girls expectantly, Mona said, "We think it was Agatha, your sister."

"We think she's been trying to get into the potion lab, too." Stated Hettie, "We saw her a while ago and she was really abrupt with us."

Miss Hardbroom scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous! She can't come anywhere near the school, let alone enter the building."

"Quite so." Miss Cackle stated, "However she did find a loophole last time, Constance. We should give these girls the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps it will be wise to keep a close eye on the grounds," She turned to Miss Drill, "Have a word with Frank, see if he can patrol the school until after the Halloween celebrations."

Miss Drill nodded and sprinted out of the room, rushing to the greenhouse to find Frank Blossom.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, girls." Miss Cackle said, ushering the girls out of the staff room, "I think you have a study period, why don't you get yourselves to the library? Mildred, a word."

Mildred watched as her cousin and her friends walked to the library. She closed the door, turning to look at Miss Cackle who was moving to sit back down again.

"I suppose Miss Bat is in charge of the fourth year study group today?" Miss Hardbroom looked at Miss Cackle who grunted a little as she sat down. The headmistress nodded.

"Mildred, I need to talk to you about tomorrow," Said Miss Cackle as Mildred sat down beside her at the table, "As you are aware we have a few guests coming to the school for Halloween. Tomorrow Miss Pentangle will arrive and I want you to be there to greet her."

"But the Halloween celebration isn't until the day after-"

"Phyllis Pentangle is a meticulous woman. She is always early to everything." Informed Miss Hardbroom, "I've known her for a very long time, Mildred."

"Old friends from college, I presume, Constance?"

Miss Hardbroom curled her nose up, "I'm not that old, Miss Cackle," she said sardonically, "I did some of my teacher training at Pentangle's before I came here."

"Ah, yes of course. I remember you saying when Mildred's application arrived," Miss Cackle turned to Mildred, as she went on, "Miss Hardbroom was only twenty-two years old when she started working at the academy – How long have you been here, now?"

"Twenty-seven years."

Mildred was surprised as she looked at Miss Hardbroom who was drinking a cup of coffee. Twenty-seven years at Cackle's? Maybe she would be a teacher here for just as long.

"Back on topic, anyway. Will you be able to greet Miss Pentangle, Mildred?" Miss Cackle asked, her blue eyes wide with hope. It was obvious she didn't want to be the one greeting the headmistress of the rival school. Mildred didn't really have much of a choice.

"Of course, Miss Cackle."

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 _Hope you guys enjoyed that short chapter. Next chapter will be a flashback to Miss Hardbroom's first day at Cackle's during her training. Please let me know what you think and leave a review :)_


	13. A Dream of Dirty Dresses

**Twenty seven years earlier**

The air was still; perfect for flying. Constance Hardbroom was flying over the tall forests towards the imposing Overblow Castle. She had managed to impress Phyllis Pentangle, the headmistress of Pentangle's Academy and now she had her final work placement at Cackle's Academy for Young Witches before she was ready to go into the world of teaching and finally be free once and for all of her wicked tutor.

She had been beaten, strangled, isolated... The woman had tormented her. She could feel Mistress Broomhead's cold hands pressing against her throat as she soared across the bright, cloudless blue sky. She needed to let go of her, just for this next week. She needed to impress Miss Cackle.

Constance had met Miss Cackle once before; she had spoken at a lecture at Weirdsister College last year about the importance of maintaining a content working environment for student witches. At the end of the lecture, Constance had gone up to the stage to speak to her. She had shown her nothing but kindness. Now she was about to work with her, albeit temporarily.

She landed gracefully in the courtyard, gently removing her cat basket and her small suitcase from the end of her broomstick. The girls playing in the courtyard watched her as she walked to the front door. The playground had gone silent apart from a few hushed whispers from the girls. The door swung open with a very loud creak of rusty hinges and she was greeted by the short, plump, Miss Cackle. She had her shoulder length dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, she had more grey hair than Constance remembered. Strands of silver decorated her hair like pale tinsel on a Christmas tree.

"How lovely to see you again. Do come in." Miss Cackle took Constance's luggage, "I'll take those. I'll show you to the staff room so you can meet everyone. They're excited to meet you."

The entrance hall of the castle was decadent to say the least. The wooden banister looked unstable, the stone staircase chipped and cracked by years of use. There was a smell of Italian food coming from somewhere as the two witches walked through the school's corridors towards the staff room.

"Really? I didn't realise I'd made such a good impression, Miss Cackle."

Miss Cackle chuckled to herself as she fiddled with the staffroom door, trying to open it and failing as she nearly dropped Constance's cat basket. Her cat hissed angrily as he was swung about inside the basket. Constance wrapped a thin pale hand around the brass handle and turned it, helping the headmistress.

"You have the best grades in the country, Constance. It is an honour to have you with us."

The door swung open as though being pulled from inside. Constance looked at the perpetrator, a hint of annoyance in her eyes; a very small, very thin woman with mousy brown hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. She had pushed a white conductor's baton through her bun to hold it together.

"Everyone, this is Constance Hardbroom. She is a student from Weirdsister College and she will be staying with us for a week or so for a spot of workplace training."

The mousy haired woman bowed very low, "We've heard so much about you, Constance."

A curvaceous woman with permed blonde hair who was sat by the window laughed loudly, she had a very broad north eastern accent, "The girls can be a handful, but we'll look after you."

"This is Miss Bat, our chanting teacher," Introduced Miss Cackle, waving a hand at the woman who had been stood behind the door, "And that is Miss Gimlet, our current potions teacher."

"Current?" Constance was slightly confused, what a strange way of putting it.

"Aye, next year I'm only going to be a tutor so my job is up for grabs. That's if anyone wants it, of course." The blonde Miss Gimlet winked at Constance, her long dark eyelashes batting on her cheeks. They were obviously fake eyelashes, "Make a good impression, lass, and you might be the one getting my job next year."

"That's enough, Patricia." Miss Cackle snapped at Miss Gimlet, gesturing for Constance to sit down. She didn't want the young witch to know her intention and Patricia was going to give the game away!

Constance took a seat at the table, her back facing a tall dresser and a stone fireplace, "Why are you giving up teaching potions?"

Miss Gimlet turned to her, her brown eyes coated in layers of mascara and eye-shadow. It was a surprise she could even keep her eyes open for more than five minutes with the weight of all the makeup she was wearing. _Not the way to present yourself around impressionable young girls_ , Constance thought to herself.

"I'm getting on a bit now, Connie. Can I call you Connie?"

"No." Constance said abruptly. It made her flesh crawl when people called her Connie, "Constance will suffice."

Miss Gimlet had obviously not heard her as she went on, "I'm nearly sixty now. It's about time I start to wind down. Gathering herbs first thing on a morning is no good for a woman of my age, Connie."

Constance pursed her lips, flaring her nostrils at the woman's ignorance. She was going to have to put up with her for a week at least. A week of being called Connie... She would just have to grin and bear it. Little did the staff at Cackle's know that Connie was the name Broomhead used for her when she was tormenting her. _Evil bitch_ , Constance thought, _You'll be rid of her soon enough._

"I suppose you'll be sitting in on my lessons?" Gimlet continued, "Haway, then. Let's get you introduced to my lovely first years."

Miss Cackle snickered, "You mean Amanda Honeydew's year?"

"Amanda is a sweet girl" Miss Bat drifted over from the door to the table, picking up a flower from one of the many vases in the staff room, running the stem through her fingers, "Very talented, Constance. You'll like her." She bit off one of the petals and then offered what remained of the flower to Constance who waved a hand, dismissing the rather strange gesture.

"If you like people who warble like banshees and have the discipline of a dog near a bitch in heat, that is." Miss Gimlet said dryly, "Come on then."

"Don't worry about your luggage, Constance. I'll see it gets to your room." Miss Cackle called after them as the pair walked through the staff room door.

The potions lab was like an Aladdin's Cave to Constance with cauldrons on strong wooden desks and scrolls hanging on the walls with diagrams of plants. There were house plants on high shelves; an overgrown fern was trailing down the highest shelf, being propped up by a heavily worn book.

The girls were very quiet as she stepped behind the desk with Miss Gimlet by her side. The pair must have looked quite strange stood together; Miss Gimlet and her garish dress sense and overdone makeup and scorched blonde hair and Miss Hardbroom with her simple black frock and hair pulled back into a bun. The pair were like polar opposites.

"This," Miss Gimlet started, "Is Miss Hardbroom. She is a student from Weirdsister College and she will be helping me teach you lot for a week so she can get her qualification," She rubbed her hands together in a business-like fashion, "I'll just let you get on then, shall I?" She sat down on the wooden stool behind the desk, flicking open a fashion magazine that was lying on top of a pile of unmarked work.

Constance blinked, feeling a bit out of her depth. She had taught classes before, but given how lax Miss Gimlet was with the girls Constance could sense that she had her hands full. A girl with peroxide blonde hair was sat at the back of the class, her hair in high pigtails, giggling with a plump red haired girl.

"You there, what's your name?" She barked at the blonde girl. She wasn't even in the correct school uniform. She wore her tie too short and a pink cardigan instead of the traditional black one as was expected in the dress code.

"Amanda, Miss." The girl called back, "This is my friend, Jasmine. Or Jazzy."

Constance rolled her eyes. Amanda Honeydew, no doubt, "Well, Amanda, if I hear another word coming from where you are sat I will give you and your friend, _Jazzy_ , five hundred lines. Is that understood?"

"A bit harsh," Miss Gimlet commented, catching a glare from Constance as she turned a page in her magazine.

They got on with the lesson after that, going through handy herbs to have at home. The girls couldn't even grasp the basics; they didn't even know about the medicinal uses for nettle seeds, rose-hips, even mint! After the lesson ended, however, Constance was confident that girls had absorbed all the information she had given them.

It was no surprise to her that Cackle's Academy's potions department had the poorest grades in the country if Miss Gimlet was the one doing the teaching for so many years. Her teaching methods were non-existent, "Copy out this page of your text book while I read a glossy mag," she could imagine the current potions teacher saying at the beginning of each of her lessons. The girls seemed to respond well to Constance, however and by the next day they were ready to absorb even more knowledge. Miss Gimlet had not sat in on this lesson, instead sitting with Miss Cackle and Miss Bat in the staff room, discussing the new arrival at the school.

"She's very sharp, isn't she?" Miss Gimlet commented as she tucked into a cheese scone, smudging her bright red lipstick.

"She has a lot of potential," Miss Cackle said, helping herself to a pink wafer out of the biscuit tin, "I think the girls have really taken to her."

"I overheard Amanda Honeydew calling her Harshbrush during chanting class this morning," Miss Bat snorted into her mint milkshake, "Harshbrush!" She giggled to herself, receiving a gentle smile from Miss Cackle, her greying dark hair down today, her fringe pinned back.

Miss Gimlet furrowed her dark eyebrows, "Don't you think she's a bit strict?"

X

The third year class filed out of the potions lab, Constance following behind them. Time for lunch, she thought to herself as she walked towards the staff room. She had ordered a delicious pasta bake from Mrs Tapioca, the school chef.

"Don't you think she's a bit strict?" A familiar brash voice came from the crack in the staff room door. Constance stood back, listening to the conversation.

X

"Maybe she's just what the doctor ordered, so to speak," Suggested Miss Cackle, "There's no point denying that our school is failing when it comes to our students' grades in potions. Constance Hardbroom-" Miss Bat started giggling again, "-Has the best potions grades that Weirdsister College has ever seen. Perhaps some of her knowledge will rub off on the girls. She is very bright, Patricia, and I am looking forward to telling her the good news when this week is over."

"What good news?" Constance asked as she stepped into the room, her paperwork in her arms.

Miss Cackle smiled kindly as the young witch came into the staff room, sitting on her seat in front of the unlit fireplace, "Well-"

* * *

 **Modern day**

Constance woke with a start, sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. She could hear a knocking on her bedroom door.

"Miss Hardbroom," a voice said through the door, "It's me."

She climbed out of bed, stepping over the sleeping Morgana lying on the rug by her bookshelf, and opened the door slightly.

"Imogen," Constance opened the door for the blonde to come into her room. She rubbed her eyes, trying to loosen the sleep that was gripping onto her eyelashes, "What time is it?"

Imogen walked over to the wardrobe, rifling through Constance's clothes.

"Time you got dressed and came for a walk with me," she threw a dark oriental style dress down onto the bed for the witch, "Wear that, you look nice in that."

Constance was too tired to argue. She walked into her private bathroom to get changed, brushing her teeth and brushing her hair, pulling it out of her face into her usual tight bun. She stepped out of the bathroom and looked at Imogen who smiled mischievously her emerald eyes glistening. Constance pulled on her boots and the two women left the bedroom and walked down towards the forest beyond the castle grounds. As they walked, Constance told Imogen about the dream she had had that night. Imogen found it fascinating listening to the witch as she spoke. She enjoyed listening to people talking about dreams. Finally as they reached the tallest pine tree in the forest just outside of the school gates, Constance said, "Thank you for listening to me rambling on yesterday, Imogen."

Imogen shook her head, "No problem. I'm sure you would've listened to me if the tables were turned."

Constance made a dismissive noise, to be honest she wasn't sure whether she would have given Imogen Drill any of her time prior to yesterday. Now, however, something had changed. She had felt a warmth from the younger blonde as she held her in her arms when she had wept, telling her of the horror she had endured during her schooling.

"I bet that's why you dreamt what you dreamt last night," Imogen stated, "It makes sense, going through all of that with me yesterday." Imogen pushed a branch out of Constance's way as they walked by the pond where they could hear frogs croaking, "Do you think talking about it helped you at all?"

Constance hadn't given it much thought after they had discussed it. Now that she was thinking about it she did feel like a weight had been lifted, as though her past wasn't going to hold her back anymore.

"Perhaps," she said quietly.

The two women walked in silence after that, though it did not feel awkward in the slightest. They were listening to the gentle rush of water in the river and the rustling of the drying autumn leaves as they fell from the branches of the trees onto the cold, frosty grass.

Constance felt her boot snag on something and she felt herself falling. Quickly, she stretched out her arms and cried out as she stumbled forward into Imogen who fell to the ground with her; her face hitting a pile of wet, sloppy mud. Constance apologised to Imogen, rolling over to see that her dress was coated in dirt as she tried to free her leg from the ensnaring tree root that had gotten caught around her ankle. Imogen chuckled to herself, rubbing a filthy hand on Constance's back.

"Will you behave? I like this dress." She snapped as she flexed her leg, making sure nothing was broken.

"I like it too, you know," Imogen bit her bottom lip as she and the brunette stood up again. Constance's hair had filled with static after she had fallen and she looked angry as the blonde looked up at her.

"What?"

Imogen couldn't resist any longer. She reached up to the brunette, brushing her soft lips against hers just for a moment. She pulled away again, watching for the witch's reaction.

"What was that for?" Constance asked in her cool voice.

Imogen blushed, "I've been dying to do that for ages."

Her heart fluttered as Constance Hardbroom smiled at her, an almost friendly smile. She went to kiss the witch again, running her mud-covered hand over the long hair that had been pulled into a bun. Constance pulled away, her eyes wide with fury.

"Guess I better run." Imogen cried impishly as she ran off, leaving the potions teacher there, mud through her hair.

"Oh yes, Miss Drill. You should run." She folded her arms, vanishing in a puff of smoke to try and find Imogen as she sprinted through the forest.

* * *

 _A/N: Hope you enjoyed that chapter, please leave a review to let me know what you think.  
_

 _Loved writing that flashback scene and it has been so difficult to get the perfect moment for a HB!Drill kiss but it finally happened and I'm so happy with it._


	14. The Arrival of Phyllis Pentangle

_A/N: Before I start this chapter I would just like to thank each and every person that has read this fic so far, especially the very lovely plebs, DreamsInLilac and the-witchy-nerd/CrystalWitchAtCackles. Your support means the world to me. You may not leave a review but just to know that you're reading and still enjoying the fic really means the world to me._

* * *

"Thank you for doing this, Mr Blossom, I really do appreciate it." Miss Cackle said, blinking against the sun as it appeared from behind a grey cloud. She was walking alongside Mr Blossom, the school's grounds keeper, gardener, handyman, caretaker and gadget maker. He was a tall man, sturdy and strong from growing up breathing the fresh clean air of the Yorkshire Dales. He carried a broom, the bristle end over his shoulder, like a musket as he marched beside the headmistress who, despite acknowledging the necessity of his protection, thought he was taking the exercise a bit too seriously.

"I remember what happened last time your sister came to this school, Miss Cackle," Mr Blossom said, "I am taking no chances."

"But is the broom really necessary?" She asked as they continued to patrol the forest.

Mr Blossom stopped walking, looking ahead at Miss Cackle. Her head was tilted slightly to the side as she looked from the broom to Mr Blossom and back again. Mr Blossom turned to look at the object he held so tightly over his shoulder, but as he did so one of the needle-like twigs at the end caught the side of his head which drew a very loud yelp of pain from Mr Blossom and a shriek of surprise from Miss Cackle who moved quicker than she had ever moved before to make sure her grounds keeper was alright.

"You haven't drawn any blood, Mr Bloss-"

Miss Cackle stopped talking for a moment. She heard a rustling from behind one of the trees and a crunching of twigs.

"What-" Started Mr Blossom, but Miss Cackle hushed him loudly, pressing a finger to her lips.

The two walked very slowly towards the source of the noise; a tall oak tree with a very wide trunk. She felt Mr Blossom raise the broom as they moved closer and closer. The rustling was becoming louder and Miss Cackle could hear the sound of women laughing. It could be Agatha, she thought, with her wicked sidekicks. They drew around the trunk of the tree, Miss Cackle had her back pressed against the bark just as Mr Blossom swung the broom in the air-

"Got ya!" He shouted. There was a grunt of pain and the sound of someone falling onto a pile of dried leaves as Mr Blossom swung around the side of the tree, his face filled with delight at the thought of catching Agatha Cackle in the act.

"What on Earth are you doing?!" An all too familiar voice shouted. Miss Cackle couldn't believe what had happened as she came out from behind the tree to see Miss Hardbroom helping Miss Drill off the floor, dusting her down. The pair of them were coated from head to toe in pond-slime and dirt. Miss Drill's hair was flattened on one side by the thick layer of sludge that was clinging to it, the other side appeared to have been ruffled up, it was sticking up in every angle that was possible for such short hair. Miss Hardbroom had a patch of dried mud on the side of her head and it appeared that some of her dark lipstick had been smudged off.

"What has happened to you?" Miss Cackle asked as she caught sight of her usually pristine, well groomed deputy. She walked over to the two women who looked at each other, guilty expressions on their faces. Miss Cackle picked a small twig out of Miss Hardbroom's bun which had become loose and was sagging at the sides. Some of her long hair had fallen loose at the front.

"Never mind what we've been up to, Miss Cackle." Miss Drill said finally, scratching her face with a filthy hand, "Why is Mr Blossom attacking me with a broomstick?"

Mr Blossom looked at his weapon of choice as Miss Hardbroom asked through a sneering smile, "He won't be required to sweep up your sister will he, Amelia?"

Miss Cackle turned to Mr Blossom, "I did warn you, Frank." The grounds keeper flushed slightly as he lowered the broomstick.

"Right you are, Miss Cackle." He handed the broom to Miss Cackle. She would use it to fly back to the academy later on, it would save her aching legs.

"As for you two," Miss Cackle snapped in a tone neither of the two women had ever heard before, "I want the pair of you to get cleaned up for Miss Pentangle's arrival in a few hours. I will not have her thinking that our staff are capable of such poor behaviour."

Miss Hardbroom nodded, folding her arms and vanishing to her bedroom with a faint rush of air. Miss Drill followed Miss Cackle on foot as the headmistress flew through the forest and back to the academy.

X

The screeching of an owl filled the courtyard as Miss Pentangle arrived that afternoon. She stepped into the entrance hall followed by a crowd of mesmerized first years. Miss Pentangle was a tall, thickset woman with ashy blonde hair cut into a bob that hung around her long chin. She wore a pair of round spectacles with thin frames and a purple suit (purple was the colour of the Pentangle's Academy school uniforms and the headmistress' colour of choice for most, if not all of her outfits). Her owl, Perky, was screeching loudly as he sat on her shoulder, nibbling the ends of his mistress' glasses.

She swatted him angrily as he continued to pester her, which earned her a frustrated hoot as she looked up at her welcome party; Mildred Hubble.

"What are you doing here?!" She shrieked at Mildred, her face livid at the sight of the woman in front of her. Her voice was shriller than usual; she sounded almost like the owl perched on her shoulder.

Mildred looked taken aback. Miss Pentangle was an uptight woman, there was no denying that, but what had put her in such a foul mood before she had even entered the school? Mildred brushed it off. Perhaps the headmistress was tired from her travels. She said in a very well rehearsed voice, "Good afternoon, Miss Pentangle. How was your journey?"

Miss Pentangle blinked, realising her sudden outburst. Her expression softened, her drawling voice back to its usual low tone, "Lovely day for flying eh, Hubble?"

Mildred forced a smile as Miss Pentangle almost threw her very heavy overnight bag at her, following her to Miss Cackle's office. Miss Pentangle knocked on the office door and it swung open where she was greeted by Miss Cackle. She towered over the headmistress as she walked into the room, sitting down in a plush floral armchair. Perky hooted and swooped over to the top of a chest of drawers beside the window, nipping his feathers.

"How nice to see you again, Phyllis." Greeted Miss Cackle, her voice thick with sarcasm, "I'm glad you had a safe journey. Would you like a cup of tea?"

Miss Pentangle shook her head, "Not at the moment, Cackle. I doubt you'll have the blend I like," she picked a piece of lint off the arm of the chair and examined it absently.

Mildred could see that Miss Cackle was biting her tongue as she sat down in the winged chair behind her desk, "I'm sure you will be satisfied with the Halloween display tomorrow," she said, changing the topic as she knew Miss Pentangle would find every opportunity to pick at and emphasise each of Cackle's Academy's shortcomings and would compare it to her own establishment, _"the best witch academy within a ninety mile radius as stated by OFWITCH,"_ Pentangle's brochures boasted. They were frequently sent to Miss Cackle, perhaps as a way for Miss Pentangle to wind her up no doubt. It worked very well as Miss Cackle was often caught cursing the woman under her breath.

"I've heard you have a flying performance planned for me-"

"For you and the Grand Wizard, Phyllis." Corrected Miss Cackle.

Miss Pentangle continued; crossing her legs, making herself comfortable, "It won't be nearly as good as our display from last year, Cackle, but one has to encourage first division academies like yours. You won't be in the premier league like us at Pentangle's."

Miss Cackle's knuckles went white, Mildred could see a nerve jumping in the headmistress' forehead, "Perhaps I can show you to your room, Miss Pentangle?" Suggested Mildred, trying to break the tension she could feel in the room.

Miss Pentangle stood up quickly and snatched her luggage from Mildred, "Perhaps I can show myself to my room. It's in the teachers wing?" there was something behind her grey eyes that made Mildred feel uneasy and as Miss Pentangle slammed the door behind her to go to her room, Mildred looked at Miss Cackle who had a look of fury on her usually peaceful, kind face. She took her glasses, which were perched on her head, and placed them on her nose as she began to write something down on a piece of paper on her desk.

"Will you be able to take Miss Pentangle's owl to her, Mildred?" Miss Cackle asked, her head low to her desk as she scribbled on her paper. Mildred said nothing in response but went over to the owl which hopped happily on to her arm, his long talons digging into her red sweater, and carried him upstairs. He blinked at her with his round eyes, as though he was trying to tell her something.

"I know you don't like travelling very much, Perky," Mildred told the owl as she walked up a spiralling flight of stairs, "But you're only going to be here for a couple of days and then you will be back home again."

She tapped on Miss Pentangle's bedroom door. When she could hear movement coming from inside the room she knocked again.

"Ah, Miss Pentangle has arrived I see." A voice came from behind Mildred. She turned to Miss Hardbroom who was staring at Perky. She looked confused, "Is this her owl?"

"Of course it is, Miss Hardbroom." Mildred stated, looking at the owl herself, stroking his chest feathers with the knuckle of her index finger. Of course it was Perky Pentangle. Who else would it be?

Miss Hardbroom seemed disapproving and was about to say something, her lips parting, just as the bedroom door swung open revealing Miss Pentangle.

"Constance, come in!" Miss Pentangle boomed, "I was just unpacking my things."

She held the door back to allow Miss Hardbroom entry into the small, unused bedroom that had belonged to Miss Gimlet so many years ago. Mildred followed Miss Hardbroom into the room, hoping that Perky would go back to his mistress. Instead he hooted loudly at her and began to dig his talons into Mildred's arm with great force.

"Is he alright?" Miss Hardbroom asked as the owl flapped his wings angrily, "He seems very unsettled."

Miss Pentangle faltered for a moment, "Not to worry, Constance. I'm sure it's just the trip here that's unsettled him."

"But he's travelled here before-"

"Glass of sherry?" Miss Pentangle cut over Miss Hardbroom, withdrawing a bottle of dusty sherry wine from her suitcase.

Perky the owl finally relinquished his grip on Mildred's arm as he flew onto the bookshelf, watching his mistress with his dark eyes. Mildred looked at the owl properly for the first time since Miss Pentangle had arrived at the school. She had never really had a good look at him when she had done her training with the headmistress but he did appear very stressed, as though something was very wrong.

"It's a bit too early for me, Phyllis," said Miss Hardbroom, looking up at the clock on the wall. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, much too early to start drinking, "Mildred, I have something to show you in my room."

Mildred did not know how to react to what Miss Hardbroom had just said, was she really being invited to her old form tutor's room? She followed her out of Miss Pentangle's room and walked further down the hallway, past a painting of a Hallow ancestor and to Miss Hardbroom's room. She pulled at the chain of keys around her waist and inserted a thin golden key into the lock, turning it and entering the room. Mildred followed her, closing the door behind her.

Miss Hardbroom's room was exactly as Mildred had imagined it. The furniture was all black; black bedding, black bed frame, black rug, black desk, black armchair in the window. The bed was positioned just next to the window above which, Mildred noticed, were two sleeping bats.

"You have bats?!"

Miss Hardbroom had pulled the stool from beneath her desk and sat down, rubbing her right temple.

"I would never have thought you would have bats-" Mildred caught sight of Morgana, Miss Hardbroom's cat, stretched out on the bed and lying on her back; the epitome of relaxed. She meowed quietly as Mildred stroked her chin, blinking her olive green eyes slowly at her.

"Yes, Mildred, I have bats. But that's not why I've brought you here," Miss Hardbroom snapped, lifting her hand from her temple, "Something is wrong with Miss Pentangle," She said coolly, her eyes piercing Mildred's, "I don't know what's wrong with her but her owl holds the key."

* * *

 _So we have finally met Miss Pentangle!_

 _Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a review to let me know what you think and if you would like to see anything in the story, any suggestions or anything like that._


	15. Searching for Evidence

Mildred stood, still stroking Morgana as she lay on her back. She knew something was wrong with Perky; although she hadn't seen much of the own during her stay at Pentangle's Academy she could tell from the little she had seen that he was a relaxed and very happy owl.

"What do you think it is, Miss Hardbroom?"

Miss Hardbroom shook her head, looking up at Mildred. It was evident from her expression that she had not decided what was actually wrong with both Miss Pentangle and her owl, "It may be wise to keep a watchful eye on her."

X

The next morning Miss Cackle had called an assembly. She, Miss Hardbroom, Mildred, Miss Drill, Miss Bat and Miss Pentangle were stood on the stage in front of the crowd of students sat in the great hall. Before the assembly had begun the girls sang the school song as they usually did. Miss Pentangle didn't seem too impressed by the girls as Mildred had seen her rolling her eyes through most of the song.

" _Ne'er a day will pass before us where we have not tried our best_ ," Miss Cackle recited from the school song as the girls finished their singing, "And I hope you will try your best tonight, girls." She turned to Miss Pentangle, "For those of you who do not know this is Miss Phyllis Pentangle, headmistress of Pentangle's Academy," the girls mumbled amongst themselves for a moment before Miss Cackle said, "Yes girls, that's quite enough."

"Miss Pentangle is here for the Halloween display this evening. I should hope that for the well-being and harmony of the school you girls will try your utmost to show Miss Pentangle how good Cackle's Academy really is."

She stepped back and Miss Hardbroom took over (as she usually did after Miss Cackle's prolonged speeches about school spirit). She was droning on about broomstick safety this morning and how the girls should have their own safety as well as the safety of their classmates as their utmost priority this evening.

"I can't wait to get this display out of the way," muttered Hettie to Cressie, under cover of Miss Hardbroom's speech, as they sat at the back of the hall, "Then Miss Cackle can stop with the encouraging speeches on a morning."

"You know what she's like, Hettie. The topic will change but we'll always get the same old encouraging speeches in morning assembly-"

"YOU THERE!" Shrieked Miss Pentangle in a shrill voice, charging in front of Miss Hardbroom to scan the crowd, "AT THE BACK WITH THE CURLY HAIR!"

Hettie slouched in her chair, covering her face as Cressie stood up, "You mean me, Miss Pentangle?"

"Yes, you insolent creature! How dare you-" Miss Pentangle's eyes were wild with fury.

"Miss Pentangle, I must point out that-" Miss Hardbroom interjected, trying to cool Miss Pentangle's temper by stepping in front of her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The headmistress was having none of it.

"Get out of my way, Hardbroom!" Miss Pentangle actually pushed Miss Hardbroom out of her way and began to march down the aisle between the chairs towards Cressie who had flushed scarlet with embarrassment, "We would never stand for this kind of ignorant behaviour at Pentangle's Academy, girl!"

Miss Cackle stepped down from the stage and addressed the other headmistress, "Phyllis Pentangle, it is not your place to discipline my girls. Now if you could kindly step away from-"

"Who's this snickering girl?" Miss Pentangle pointed at Hettie whose eyes widened, "Yes, you girl!"

"That's Henrietta Hubble," Miss Cackle stated, a weight pressing on her shoulders as she spoke.

"Another Hubble at Cackle's..."

The headmistresses continued to argue as both Mildred and Miss Drill stepped forwards to approach Miss Hardbroom.

"Are you okay?" Mildred asked gently as the deputy headmistress looked on at the confrontation between the two older women. She felt powerless as they ripped chunks out of each other.

Miss Hardbroom nodded, her arms folded over her chest. Miss Drill stroked her back gently, unnoticed by Mildred, "She seems out of sorts, doesn't she?"

"Hmm," Miss Hardbroom sighed, "Something is very wrong."

"... This school needs strong leadership; not the laid back approach that you have, Amelia!" Snapped Miss Pentangle, "Perhaps if you handed this school over to someone with authority your girls wouldn't push the limits!"

Miss Hardbroom's eyebrows raised very suddenly and with a gentle whoosh of air she vanished. Miss Drill and Mildred looked at each other. They didn't need to say anything, they just nodded to each other and walked through the door behind the stage.

When they were away from the door, Miss Drill asked, "What's the matter with Miss Pentangle?"

Mildred clenched her jaw, "Miss Hardbroom and I were discussing it yesterday."

"And?" Miss Drill barked impatiently, "What is it, Mildred?!"

X

Miss Hardbroom materialised in her bedroom beside her tall mahogany wardrobe. She rushed over to her desk, opening one of the top drawers and began to filter through the letters that she had thrown in there that morning, promising herself that when she had time she would sort through them. There were letters written on yellowed paper that should have been thrown away years ago; letters from old students asking for references from Miss Cackle, from The Witch's Guild requesting her attendance at various events, a pile of letters from an admirer of hers; Icey Stevens, which after a while she didn't even bother reading. Icey Stevens was a presenter for Sorcery FM, a very popular radio station in the world of magic. He had fallen head over heels for Miss Hardbroom when he met her almost seven years earlier and he was as persistent now as he was on their first encounter. Miss Hardbroom rolled her eyes as she cast the pile of unopened envelopes to one side.

Finally she found what she was looking for; the letters from Phyllis. She drew the letters one by one out of the envelopes and examined the handwriting, comparing each letter side by side to try and notice a change.

Two figures watched Miss Hardbroom from within her wardrobe as she examined the letters.

"She's on to us," The taller woman hissed through her cracked and rotting teeth, pushing a tight leather dress out of her way to get a better view.

"You know what She said, Hardbroom is the really dangerous one. We need to get rid of her before we get Amelia." The plumper woman whispered, throwing back her sleeves, "Together?"

The women nodded to each other.

Miss Hardbroom stood up, gazing open mouthed at the two letters in her hands. She recognised the handwriting on the letter, though it wasn't Phyllis'. She needed to tell Miss Cackle, she needed to warn her about what was going to happen-

A loud bang drew her out of her trance. She looked over to where the noise had come from.

"You!" She cried, "What are you-"

The two women cackled maniacally as they waved their hands. There was another bang and a flash of brilliant white light and the women laughed again.

"Poor old Constance Hardbroom." The taller woman sneered.

"What will Miss Cackle say when she sets eyes on you?" The plumper witch shrieked with laughter as the pair span on the spot, vanishing in a poof of smoke.

X

"...She thinks whatever is wrong with Pentangle, her owl holds the key." Mildred explained as she and Miss Drill walked around the corner towards Miss Hardbroom's bedroom.

"You mean it has some kind of inside knowledge?" Miss Drill asked as she rapped on the heavy wooden door of the deputy headmistress' bedroom, "I guess it's not completely out of the question. You witches have strong relationships with your pets."

Mildred knocked on the door again. There was still no answer, "That's strange. I'm sure she would have come up here."

Miss Drill tried the handle, rattling it gently. It turned in her hand, the door opening ever so slightly, "Well she's in." She pushed the door and both she and Mildred stepped into the bedroom, "But where is she?"

Miss Hardbroom was nowhere in sight. The wardrobe door was hanging open, clothing thrown over the doors. There were piles of letters laying haphazardly on her desk.

"Miss Hardbroom!" Mildred called, walking over to the private bathroom and putting her head around the door.

"Constance, are you in here?" Miss Drill shouted, bending down and looking under the bed. She jumped back as a swiping black paw came towards her, "Easy, Morgana."

The potion teacher's cat hissed angrily, her back arched and her tail fluffed up. Her eyes gleamed in the darkness beneath the bed as Miss Drill stood up again.

"Where on Earth is she?" Mildred asked, fear rising in her chest, "She can't have left."

"Not without Morgana, at least." Added Miss Drill, glancing at the space beneath the bed where the growling Morgana was curled up, her eyes still gleaming like lasers in the shadows.

A low meow came from behind Mildred and she turned around, looking down at a very thin cat with sleek, black fur and piercing eyes. The cat sat down and licked its front paw, washing its whiskers.

"And who do you belong to?" Mildred asked the cat, picking it up mid-wash. She could feel its ribs beneath its fur as it squirmed, trying to get away from her. It drew out its claws, swiping at her, hissing wildly. Mildred placed the cat gently on the floor again and it stared at her, its eyes wide.

Miss Drill watched as the cat jumped up onto the desk and curled up on the pile of letters, looking over at the two women with its cold eyes.

"It's no use, we can't find her." Miss Drill said with a heavy sigh, "We'll just have to tell Miss Cackle about what you and Constance figured out yesterday."

"It's not a lot to go off," Said Mildred as the pair left the bedroom. There was a scuttling of paws and the thin black cat brushed passed Mildred into the corridor, "Are you coming too?"

The cat blinked at Mildred, sitting down outside the bedroom door as Miss Drill closed the door behind her. Its tail was wagging impatiently as Mildred went to pick it up. It growled in disapproval as Mildred held it close against her as she and Miss Drill returned downstairs to the staff room. They would need to tell Miss Cackle about their doubts before it was too late.

* * *

 _Thank you so much for your continued support! It really keeps me wanting to write and I am so happy that you are still enjoying reading this fic!_


	16. Eliminating the Enemy

"We got Hardbroom."

The two stooped figures had arranged to meet their leader in the dungeons beneath the school. Although the dungeons were dimly lit, there was just enough light to make out the hooded woman in the corner near a shelf filled with different cheeses.

"What did you do to her?" The hooded figure asked in a low voice.

"Coldstone turned her into a black cat. They'll think she's one of the little urchin's moggies." Explained the smaller figure as they approached the woman, still shrouded in darkness.

The woman lowered her hood, pushing her round, wire-framed glasses up her nose, "They don't suspect a thing, Bindweed?"

Bindweed shook her head, "Not a thing, Agatha. Your disguise is flawless." The two stooping women looked at each other.

"Good," Smirked Agatha, "Time to lay low until the time is right, ladies."

Coldstone shuffled slightly on the spot, "When do you suggest we strike?"

Agatha stepped into the candle light, the reflection of the flames dancing on her glasses, "During the Halloween display. The Grand Wizard will be there and with Hardbroom and Pentangle out of the way there is no one there to stop us!" She turned to look at the screeching owl that she had managed to force into a small cage, cackling, "I need to sort out my sister and that Hubble girl, then we will get the students. After that the school will finally be mine!"

X

Mildred and Miss Drill walked to Miss Cackle's office urgently, the black cat still growling and hissing, obviously not enjoying the sensation of being held. Miss Drill pushed the door open and greeted the headmistress who was preoccupied reading a book she had borrowed from Miss Bat by Leo Tolstoy called "War and Peace".

"Sorry to disturb you, Miss Cackle," Mildred started, "But we can't find Miss Hardbroom anywhere."

Miss Cackle put down the book she was reading and proceeded to arrange the books on her desk, placing her glasses on top of her head, "Well where have you looked?"

"Her bedroom," Miss Drill said, sounding exhausted, "Miss Cackle, she knows something about what's wrong with Miss Pentangle; why she's been out of sorts."

Miss Cackle tented her fingers, resting them under her chin as she looked from Mildred and back to Miss Drill, "Where did you find this cat, Mildred?" she asked, gesturing at the now much calmer cat in her arms, though it was still growling very quietly to itself.

"In Miss Hardbroom's room." Mildred dropped the cat gently onto the desk and it looked at Miss Cackle with wide eyes. It turned back to look at Mildred and proceeded to observe her, "We, that is Miss Hardbroom and I, believe that Perky knows something about what is wrong with Miss Pentangle."

"We will need to do a full search of the castle. I'll alert Miss Bat. She's asleep in the staff room cupboard at the moment. Mildred, can you keep the girls calm? They don't need to know what's going on," Mildred nodded, "Miss Drill," Miss Cackle stood up and looked up at the slightly taller blonde, "I need you to find Frank Blossom and I need the pair of you to keep an eye on Phyllis."

The cat meowed loudly, "For now," Miss Cackle continued, "you will stay here."

If the cat could have rolled its eyes it would have done. Instead it took a very deep breath and padded some of the paperwork in the overflowing trays on Miss Cackle's desk, appearing to read it.

"But what about Agatha?" Miss Drill asked, wondering why the headmistress wanted the school's protective patrols to be halted.

Miss Cackle sighed deeply, "I think she may already be in the school." She stepped through the open office door followed by the two younger women. Miss Drill sprinted off towards Mr Blossom's greenhouse, Miss Cackle walked slowly to the staff room to find Miss Bat, leaving Mildred alone.

She moved quickly to the courtyard where she could see the fourth year class practising their display for the celebrations that evening.

She wondered if the display would happen at all, what with Miss Cackle thinking her wicked sister had managed to get into the school and with Miss Hardbroom seemingly disappearing. The display wouldn't be the same without the strict deputy headmistress giving her running commentary, which Miss Cackle had said added a comic relief to a rather dull affair given that Egbert Hellibore (or Helliboring as the staff usually called him) usually drained all the fun out of most things.

Her heart sank as she saw how much the fourth years were enjoying themselves. How could she allow them to get so excited just to take it away from them at the last moment?

There was a sound of glass being tapped from behind Mildred and she turned to see the black cat scratching the window in Miss Cackle's office. It stopped, realising it had managed to get an audience, and glared angrily at Mildred. Mildred placed her hand on the pane of glass, looking at the cat, blinking slowly. The cat seemed very familiar, though she knew none of the girls owned a cat at all like this one. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

The cat started pacing up and down the windowsill, staring at Mildred as it did so, looking very impatient indeed.

X

Later that day, the staff were gathered in the staff room discussing the recent disappearance of Miss Hardbroom. The cat that Mildred had found in her bedroom was skulking backwards and forwards, glowering up at the humans.

"There's no sign of her in the grounds, Miss Cackle," Frank Blossom stated.

"Or in any of the rooms of the castle," Sighed Miss Bat, twirling her baton in between her fingers, "Miss Drill and I have checked."

The cat leapt up onto the staff room table, meowing at them.

 _Come on,_ the cat thought, _I've given you plenty of signs!_

"It's probably a stray," Miss Drill said quietly, "None of the girls' cats look so malnourished."

Sitting down where she had been standing, the cat's pupils dilated at the thought of being considered a stray.

Miss Cackle shook her head just as Miss Pentangle walked into the room, booming, "Any sign of her, Cackle?"

"No, Phyllis. Not a thing," she replied, pulling the black cat onto her knee, placing her hands either side of it in a protective manner, which earned her a disapproving growl, "How are the girls, Mildred?"

Mildred confessed to Miss Cackle that the girls were behaving out-of-sorts, one in particular; Belladonna Bindweed. She had been bullying her cousin, Hettie, more than usual. The whole situation reminded Mildred a lot of her experience with Ethel Hallow.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mildred. I shall speak to her before we leave," Miss Cackle said woefully. It was obvious to Mildred that Miss Cackle felt lost without her deputy head. During the short time that she had worked with them it was obvious that they saw each other as family. Miss Hardbroom often went to Miss Cackle for advice and Miss Cackle did the same.

Miss Cackle looked at the cat in her lap, "Perhaps you and I should have a moment alone, puss?"

The cat blinked slowly at the headmistress and purred, padding her lap as she stroked its back.

That was Mildred's cue to leave as she was followed by Miss Bat and Miss Drill. Miss Pentangle lingered for a moment, her eyes glimmering behind her round spectacles, but then she turned on her heels and followed them.

The headmistress removed the cat gently from her lap and looked at it, her eyes wide as she examined the peculiar feline before her, "Now what spell has been put on you?"

X

After a number of different reversal spells and chants Miss Cackle left the staff room to clear her head, leaving the black cat on her own once again. She was still perched like a statue on the table, green eyes wide as she watched the students perform their display outside.

"At least Amelia knows that I'm not just a stray, thank you very much Imogen." The cat mumbled bitterly to herself as she washed her whiskers once again.

How would she alert the other teachers to her suspicions? She could perhaps trip Miss Pentangle over, but then that would be risking her own safety.

She wondered why none of Miss Cackle's spells had worked on her, if she would ever be herself again. She sighed deeply, looking at the woman walking in front of the window.

Mildred was sitting down beneath the staff room window, her own cat, Tabby, draped around her shoulders like a black and silver striped scarf.

Perhaps she could catch the other cat's attention.

Leaping down from the table and up onto the windowsill she scratched the glass as she had earlier in Miss Cackle's office, hoping that her plan would work.

X

Mildred nuzzled into Tabby who was purring loudly around her shoulders as she watched the fourth years do yet another practice of their display. It was nearly time for them to start getting changed into their dress robes, but Mildred allowed them one more practice run before she told them to go to their rooms to get ready.

Hettie was flying alongside Cressie, encouraging her friend. The sight brought a smile to her face. Then a noise, like fingernails tapping against glass, woke Mildred from her relaxed state. She turned, looking yet again at the black cat that had been in Miss Hardbroom's bedroom. It was scratching the glass, yowling loudly. It seemed to be staring at Tabby, whose tail had fluffed up. Without warning he dug his claws into her shoulders and he leapt from her shoulders, running back into the castle.

Mildred shouted for the fourth years to come down and to get dressed as she ran after him.

"Tabby?!" Cried Mildred, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the castle. She made gentle mewing noises, trying to draw him out. She could hear a scratching noise and she followed it, hoping that it was Tabby trying to get into a classroom.

She knelt down trying to see if she could see him, but doing so she had forgotten to look up. She bumped, full force, into a short plump woman in a dark robe.

"Watch where you're going." Said the woman coolly.

Mildred stood up, smiling, "Oh, sorry Miss Cackle. I can't find Tabby anywhere. He ran off after he saw that black cat in the window."

Miss Cackle smirked, "Ah yes, the black cat," she chuckled, "Perhaps you would like to come to my office for a cup of tea, Mildred Hubble."

Miss Cackle waved her hand as Mildred nodded to her and the office door behind her opened, "Come in."

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 _A/N - I'm not going to lie, I have re-written this chapter about fifteen times and have been putting off posting it since Sunday. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think :)_


	17. The Return of Agatha Cackle

"Now, Mildred, take a seat. We have something to discuss." Miss Cackle said softly, gesturing to the seat on the other side of her desk. Mildred sat down quietly, folding her hands in her lap, feeling once again like a young school girl ready to be chastised.

"You have been in charge of the fourth year display, haven't you?"

There was something Mildred didn't like about Miss Cackle's almost icy tone, "Yes, Miss Cackle. You arranged it yourself."

Miss Cackle nodded, "You're right, I did. I'm ever so sorry... Now-"

There was a sudden banging coming from the heavy mahogany cupboard in the corner of the room. Mildred jumped at the noise, eyes wide as she looked at Miss Cackle who shook off the outburst.

"Don't worry, I think the hinges need oiling. Now, back on topic! I think perhaps you should rest this evening. Don't worry about attending the display." Miss Cackle's eyes glimmered behind her spectacles.

Mildred had every intention of attending the display. She didn't put weeks of effort into the fourth years' flying just to have them not have her support on the night.

"I appreciate your concern, Miss Cackle, I really do," The cupboard door banged again, "but the girls will want me there."

Miss Cackle rolled her eyes, a gesture foreign to the usually understanding headmistress, "No, girl. You aren't listening. You will not be attending the display tonight and that is final!"

The headmistress flushed as she stood up, taking deep breaths.

"Are you alright, Miss Cackle?" Mildred stood up to place a reassuring hand on Miss Cackle's arm but it was swatted away impatiently.

"Leave me be, you silly girl!" She cleared her throat, straightening her blouse, "Pardon me, Mildred. I won't be a moment."

The headmistress shook her hair back, clearing her throat again and stepped out of the room to compose herself leaving Mildred alone.

Mildred could have stayed on the spot but what with the constantly banging cupboard, curiosity got the better of her. She needed to know what the source of the noise was. She moved swiftly over to the cupboard door and tried the handle. It was locked.

Whatever it was that was making that banging noise, Miss Cackle didn't want anyone seeing it.

Mildred wiggled her fingers and was about to mutter the incantation to unlock the door but the office door crashed open.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mildred Hubble." Said a sickeningly familiar voice. Mildred turned, her suspicions confirmed.

"Step away from that cupboard," Hissed Agatha Cackle, now wearing her own magnifying spectacles, stepping slowly towards her, her arms stretched out in front of her.

But Mildred didn't move.

"I said move, you silly girl!" Agatha barked, eyes narrowed.

Mildred shook her head, "What's in the cupboard?" She asked in a low voice.

Agatha allowed herself to smile wickedly, "You were always foolish, always getting in my way; you and that irritating cousin of yours."

She was reminded of Hettie's first term at Cackle's when Agatha had managed to get into the school with the help of a magical cabinet. She had turned all of the teachers into mannequins (apart from Miss Hardbroom who had been turned into a white rat) all to get her hands on the most powerful magical device; the Golden Broomstick. Of course she had been thwarted, banished yet again but somehow Agatha kept finding a way around the Witches Code.

"Why are you still fighting?" Asked Mildred, trying to remain calm. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, she could feel her face flushing, but if she kept herself calm she would be fine. At least that was what she was telling herself.

"THIS SCHOOL IS MINE BY RIGHT!" Agatha screeched, "If it wasn't for you and my sister," she nodded her head in the direction of the cupboard that was still banging in the corner, "I would be running things around here!"

"So Miss Cackle is in there..." Mildred said very quietly, turning to look at the cupboard which was rattling furiously. Agatha nodded, licking her thin lips, "What about Miss Hardbroom?"

"Coldstone dealt with her." Mildred's heart was racing, her stomach twisting. She felt the colour draining from her face as Agatha Cackle laughed maniacally, "She's that cat!"

Mildred's heart relaxed slightly, knowing that her old form mistress was safe. Now she understood; the reason the cat had been in Miss Hardbroom's bedroom, the reason the cat had tried to push her away, the reason she felt a sense of familiarity...

"Now, my dear," Agatha said, taking a calming breath, "I'll let you in on a little secret, shall I?" Agatha stepped towards the cupboard door, resting her bony hand on the handle, "My beloved sister worked out my plan. I needed to get her out of the way before she could tell Egbert Hellibore and have me banished again."

She waved her fingers at the cupboard door which opened revealing the real Miss Cackle, tied and gagged. Her eyes were bloodshot from the tears streaming down her cheeks. She tried to wail loudly by the scarf around her mouth smothered her cries.

"So when she came to see me," She went on, pacing in front of the open cupboard as Mildred watched Miss Cackle, "I jinxed her and trapped her in here. And, of course, my sister picked up on my disguise." Mildred turned to Agatha who had made her way back to the office door.

The woman stood in front of the door, however, was not the round faced, short, plump Agatha Cackle. It was the long chinned, tall, thickset Miss Pentangle. But when she spoke it wasn't Miss Pentangle's voice, it was the shrill voice of Agatha.

"Yes, she saw straight through my disguise. It had taken me months to perfect it yet _she_ knew," she spat, pointing angrily at Miss Cackle, "Clever little Amelia."

"If you just let Miss Cackle go I'm sure we could all-"

"I will not let her go, Mildred Hubble! Not until this school is mine!" Shrieked Agatha, charging towards Mildred. She took her roughly by the shoulders, she continued in a low and deadly voice,"I need you and your irritating teachers out of my way tonight. So you're going to go in there with my _lovely_ sister and you're going to keep your mouth shut."

Mildred couldn't argue as Agatha pushed her into the space beside Miss Cackle, closing the door and turning the lock using magic. Mildred looked at Miss Cackle who was shuddering beside her, her mouth was gagged tightly and her wrists appeared to be bound with a thick rope. Her own hands being free, Mildred began to untie the headmistress who gasped for air as her mouth was freed from the scarf that had been covering it.

"Everything's going to be okay Miss Cackle, I promise I'll find a way out of this."

* * *

 _A/N: The big reveal!  
_

 _Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know what you think!_


	18. Shadows on the Moonlit Sky

**_A/N: Firstly I would just like to say a big thank you to each and every person that has left a review and is continuing to read this fic. I really appreciate everything you say and I'm so glad you're still enjoying this as much as I am. I hope you enjoy this chapter_**

* * *

Miss Drill had always been drawn to Miss Hardbroom from the moment they had met. She had seen the beauty behind that ice-cold demeanour, even when the potions mistress had sneered at her for not being a witch.

Constance Hardbroom had not hidden the fact that she was unhappy about working with a non-witch. She had done everything she could to avoid speaking to her for the first few weeks of her employment at Cackle's Academy.

They had shared a moment of weakness in the woods; a kiss, followed by another kiss... Miss Drill shuddered, smiling at the memory. She had seen a side of the potions mistress that she had never seen before, perhaps the side of her that had been beaten out by the wicked Hecketty Broomhead so many years ago.

For the first time she had heard Miss Hardbroom laugh! It wasn't the sour, sarcastic chuckle that she usually gave during staff meetings, it was the sound of angels singing. It was the most beautiful, joyous sound she had ever heard. She had laughed as they fell into the dirty pond, coating them both in pond slime and mud. She had allowed herself to be free as she chased Miss Drill through the woods, she was liberated for the first time in over twenty-seven years.

Now Miss Drill was sat with Miss Bat in the staff room, waiting for Mildred and Miss Cackle to arrive so that they could attend the Halloween celebration together.

Miss Cackle came through the door, looking flustered. She rested her hands on the back of the chair beside Miss Bat.

"Are you okay, Miss Cackle?" Miss Bat asked, "You know if you're feeling tense you could always try one of my herbal remedies. They work quite well," she leant in to the headmistress, whispering, "They're from my grandmother's recipe, you know."

Miss Cackle shook her head, dismissing Miss Bat, "I suppose we should go to the display!"

Miss Drill raised her eyebrows, "Half the staff are missing."

There was still no sign of Miss Hardbroom and Mildred and Miss Pentangle hadn't been seen since the staff meeting during afternoon break. After all the effort Mildred had put into the fourth year's display it would be wrong to leave without her.

The black cat that had been sat patiently on the table grumbled at Miss Cackle, her pupils wide as her tail batted quickly from side to side.

"Not to worry. They'll know where we've gone." Miss Cackle stated dismissively, turning to head back out of the door. Miss Bat and Miss Drill both stood up.

"Shouldn't we wait for Miss Pentangle?" Asked Miss Bat, "She is, after all, our guest of honour."

The cat jumped down from the table and sniffed Miss Cackle's ankles as she replied, "I'm sure she will follow us on the way to the display. Now let's get a move on or we'll be late for the Grand Wizard!"

Miss Drill was shocked at the impatient tone in the headmistress' voice. She looked at Miss Bat who shrugged almost imperceptibly as they followed the headmistress, the black cat slinking out of the door behind them.

The cat watched as the three women walked away into the entrance hall, sitting down patiently outside the staff room door until the sound of footsteps was inaudible. Then, when she was sure the three women weren't returning, she walked quickly to the headmistress' office.

The door had been left ajar and the cat nudged it a bit further open with her head. She could hear voices coming from the heavy mahogany cupboard that Miss Cackle normally hid her cakes and biscuits in.

"None of the spells are working, Miss Cackle!" A familiar voice said in a strained whisper.

It was Mildred Hubble's voice. The cat's heart seemed to skip and a wave of relief came over her. The headmistress and Mildred were both safe.

"Maybe if we were outside the cupboard the spells would work." Muttered Miss Cackle's voice.

The cat paced over to the cupboard and sniffed the wood, opening her mouth as she did so. She could almost taste the air; it was a bitter flavour. Black magic had been used to seal the cupboard door. She mewed very softly and one of the women inside the cupboard yelped with surprise.

"Who's that?" Croaked Mildred from inside the cupboard, "Tabby?"

The cat remained silent. She was not that moth-eaten tabby cat! She gave an angry snort that was audible to the women in the cupboard.

"Miss Hardbroom?" Questioned Mildred, "Miss Hardbroom if that's you please help us!"

Miss Cackle's voice came through the wood, "Constance, please. Before it's too late."

"Agatha is going to take over the school if we don't get there in time, please!"

The cat sat, staring up at the lock on the cupboard door. There was no key and the door had been sealed with magic. She would need to try and use magic in cat form which was notoriously difficult even for a learned witch like herself,"Alright," she mewed, though to Mildred and Miss Cackle she just sounded like a normal cat, "I'll see what I can do."

Even as a cat, Mildred thought Miss Hardbroom sounded disapproving. As they heard her claws scratching against the dark wooden door outside, Miss Cackle touched Mildred's shoulder comfortingly.

X

The students of Cackle's Academy flew through the dark sky like a flock of starlings. Their headmistress was leading them, Miss Bat flying behind and Miss Drill travelling on her bicycle through the woods.

"Don't suppose you have any chance of impressing Helliboring now, Hubble. Not without your cousin there" sneered Belladonna Bindweed as she flew passed Hettie and her friends, "Shame, I was really looking forward to watching you fall of your broomstick with dork-a-zoid and that hippie," she was of course talking about Mona and Cressie as she overtook them, laughing obnoxiously.

Hettie hung back, watching as the students flew past her. Mona and Cressie remained behind with their friend and finally as Miss Bat swerved passed them Hettie turned tail and started flying back towards the school, tears stinging her dark eyes.

"Where are you going?!" Shouted Mona as she flew after her friend.

The three girls darted passed trees and the turrets of the school and came to a gentle landing in the courtyard.

Hettie dismounted her broomstick and looked at Mona and Cressie who were still hovering.

"This isn't because of Belladonna, is it?" Asked Cressie in her soft voice, she was absently fiddling with one of the ribbons she had tied to the end of her broomstick as she watched Hettie.

Hettie shook her head, "No way! I wouldn't let her bother me," She looked back at the school, dark and empty of students, "I need to find Mildred."

"And how are you going to do that, exactly?" Asked Mona as she and Cressie dismounted their broomsticks.

Hettie shrugged and laughed, in that moment she sounded slightly hysterical, "I have no idea!" and with that she dropped her broomstick on the wet cobbled ground and charged back into the dark castle followed closely by her friends, "I'll work it out!"

"That's your problem, Henrietta Hubble," Grumbled Mona, "Act first, think later."

Hettie hared around the corner behind the staircase in the entrance hall, looking for some kind of clue. She had her eyes wide, thinking that this may help her find her missing cousin.

"Why don't we just go to the display and try and find Miss Hubble later?" Suggested Cressie, breathless as she caught up to her friend,"I've been practising this for weeks. I am not missing out on performing in front of the Grand Wizard."

"If it bothers you that much, you can head back. I'll be fine on my own."

"We aren't going to leave you," Mona nudged Cressie who looked angrily at her, "We're your friends, remember?"

"Then you can help me look for her-" she stopped talking as a familiar cat swaggered around the corner, rubbing his cheeks against one of the display cabinets, "Tabby!"

The black and silver tabby cat looked up at Hettie and purred loudly. He was obviously very happy to see a familiar face.

"Do you know where Mildred is?" Hettie asked him, kneeling down to look into his green eyes. Tabby's ears went back and his pupils narrowed.

"Chances of that cat understanding you are-" Mona started but she was cut off by a severe look from Cressie.

Tabby blinked at Hettie and started to walk away, "Maybe we should follow him." She suggested, looking back at her two friends. The other two girls nodded as they observed Tabby who was heading towards Miss Cackle's office. He nuzzled the corner of the door as he reached the room and the girls looked at him and then looked inside.

They could see a black cat sitting on Miss Cackle's desk, staring at a book. Its head was moving from side to side. Was it... reading?!

"That is a very talented cat." Smiled Cressie, "I wish my cat could read."

The cat looked up and gave all three girls a blood curdling stare. Its eyes were narrow, its ears were back, its front paw firmly planted on the page of the book it had been reading.

"Hettie!" A voice came from the cupboard in the corner and all three of the girls shrieked at the unexpected sound, "Hettie is that you?"

Hettie stepped into the room at the sound of the voice, "Millie? What are you doing in the cupboard?"

"I'll explain later," Mildred said, "The cat isn't a cat," Hettie's eyes fell on the black cat on the desk, whose eyes were still very narrow, "It's Miss Hardbroom. You need to find a spell to change her back and then she can get us out of the cupboard."

The cat breathed deeply and Hettie looked at the book open on the desk for the first time, "Advanced Reversal Spells..." She muttered, looking from the book to Miss Hardbroom, "I think she's found the spell already."

"It'll be open on the page I was looking at before Agatha trapped me in here." Miss Cackle's voice called from inside the cupboard, "Well cast it already!"

The cat stepped off the book and leapt on to the floor with a loud thud. Hettie glanced down at the spell, "Here's hoping this works," she looked at her friends who stepped beside her, "Together?"

The three girls nodded, looking down at the spell again, " _Reversus Resolvus Omnis Revolvus Illio Allio Transmutatus Portum!_ " They chanted together.

As they finished chanting the spell there was a brilliant flash of white light and purple smoke filled the room, billowing from the spot where the cat had been standing only moments before. In its place however was the tall, slim Miss Hardbroom, her arms folded across her chest, an eyebrow raised.

"Now girls, I shall deal with everything here," She said coolly, "We shall meet you in the clearing in the forest."

The girls did not argue and returned to the courtyard to retrieve their broomsticks.

Mildred sighed with relief as the door of the cupboard opened. She helped Miss Cackle stand up and once she was sure the headmistress was okay she turned to Miss Hardbroom, "Thank you."

Miss Hardbroom's expression remained cold as she marched out of the office and into the hallway.

"Where are you going, Constance?" Miss Cackle called after her deputy head who was heading towards the dungeons.

Miss Hardbroom rolled her eyes at herself, how could she have forgotten to explain herself? "Ah yes, well. Miss Pentangle, as you know, wasn't Miss Pentangle. But Perky the owl isn't Perky the owl."

"Well who is he?" Mildred asked, looking up at the potions mistress.

Miss Hardbroom sighed, "I have a feeling the owl may be Phyllis."

"Are you sure, Constance?" Miss Cackle asked as they began to walk down the spiral staircase towards the dungeons where the owl had been trapped by Agatha and her cronies.

Miss Hardbroom furrowed her eyebrows, "The only way Agatha could have managed to get into the school without being in breach of the Witches Code is by being in the company of someone who had already been invited here. She must have found out that Phyllis was coming here and incapacitated her."

"Always planning ahead..." Miss Cackle frowned as she stepped off the bottom step of the staircase, looking at the owl that was apparently sleeping in the small wire cage, "If the Grand Wizard catches her in the act she will never be able to return to the school again. He will make sure of it."

"And that's worked before, Miss Cackle?" Smirked Miss Hardbroom as she opened the cage door, stroking the owl's chest. It woke up slowly, blinking its beady eyes at Miss Hardbroom. It nipped her finger as it clambered out of the cage, perching on the edge of the wobbly wooden bench.

"Are you Phyllis Pentangle, headmistress of Pentangle's Academy?" Miss Cackle asked the owl as it looked up at her. It chirped loudly, blinking its dark eyes.

Miss Cackle nodded to Miss Hardbroom who chanted the reversal spell. There was another flash of white light and a burst of green smoke. Mildred covered her eyes as the smoke cleared.

"We need to get Agatha." A voice cried. Mildred opened her eyes to see Miss Pentangle leading Miss Cackle up the spiral staircase. The headmistress gripped the steel banister rail as she followed, trying to keep up with the more athletic Miss Pentangle.

Miss Hardbroom lingered behind, waiting for Mildred, "Quickly!" She waved her hand impatiently up the staircase, ushering Mildred on. Her heels clicked as she stalked behind Mildred up the staircase and into the corridor.

They walked out into the courtyard and towards the broom shed.

"How are you feeling, Miss Pentangle?" Mildred asked as she mounted her broomstick.

Miss Hardbroom passed Miss Pentangle her spare broom as she said, "All the better for being out of that awful cage, Mildred." She rolled her shoulders, "It was awfully cramped in there."

Miss Pentangle commanded her broom to hover and then turned to Miss Hardbroom, "Taking your hair down, Constance?"

Miss Hardbroom glared at Miss Pentangle.

"It's tradition, Constance."

With a heavy sigh, Miss Hardbroom unravelled the bun that was wound tightly around the top of her head. Her hair fell down into long, gentle waves and she ruffled it at the crown. Miss Pentangle looked at her admiringly as it cascaded over the potion mistress' chest and down her back.

"Much better... If a witch has long hair, Mildred, she _should_ wear it down for Halloween." Explained Miss Pentangle.

Miss Hardbroom rolled her eyes, commanding her broomstick to hover. She threw her hair over her shoulders and looked back at Mildred.

"Ready for take off?" Miss Cackle asked.

They nodded to each other and with a series of loud taps they rose up into the dark sky and towards the celebration, Miss Hardbroom's hair streamed behind her as they soared across the brilliant white full moon.

* * *

 ** _A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you have any comments or suggestions please let me know. What do you think Agatha's punishment should be if she gets caught by the Grand Wizard?_**


	19. Justice is Served

The moon hung in the sky like a vivid white lantern as the teachers and students of Cackle's Academy flew towards the clearing in the woods. Miss Drill had already arrived on her bicycle and had greeted the grand wizard, Mr Egbert Hellibore.

Miss Cackle landed first followed by the first year class, then the second years and so on. Miss Bat arrived slightly later than the rest of the school; a bouquet of somewhat dried out wild flowers grasped tightly in her hand.

"Sorry for being late but I felt a pull to nature, Your Honour," she said wistfully as she admired her hoard, "The symphony of plants and wildlife chanting together in harmony just drew me in and-"

"Don't be ludicrous!" Snapped Miss Cackle as she placed her broomstick beside a twisted oak tree, "Plants cannot chant."

"They can!"

Miss Drill rolled her eyes as she began to take a head count. There appeared to be three fourth year girls missing and she knew exactly who they would be, "Henrietta, Crescentmoon and Mona aren't here, Miss Cackle."

Miss Cackle waved her hands dismissively, "No matter, we can continue the display without them."

"But what if something happens to them...?" Miss Cackle glared angrily at Miss Drill whose voice trailed off. Then she announced, "Apart from the three fourth years, everyone appears to be here apart from Miss Hardbroom, Miss Hubble and Miss Pentangle." It felt strange to Miss Drill to call her new friend by her proper title. She had grown so used to addressing Mildred by her first name that the noise that came out of her mouth sounded almost foreign.

The Grand Wizard stroked his beard, "No matter, ladies. I'm sure they will be along soon enough. Now let the celebrations begin."

The staff sat on their usual seats, made out of logs, beneath the hollow pine tree that had been decorated in paper lanterns for the night's proceedings; Miss Bat sat beside the grand wizard, gazing at him adoringly, Miss Cackle sat in between Miss Drill and the wizard. The students sat on the logs that had been placed down for them like benches and grumbled as they sat on their uncomfortable seats.

Miss Bat waved her hands and a collection of musical instruments appeared beneath a very tall willow tree; an electric guitar ("How on Earth is that going to work out here" Mused the wizard), a set of drums including cymbals and two microphones. Sylvia Ravensworth and Hazel Hembane, the first act to perform, approached the collection of instruments and looked to Miss Bat who nodded very happily. She waved her conductors baton and the instruments began to play themselves, beginning with a heavy metal guitar solo, soon followed by Sylvia and Hazel almost growling the song "Punkie Night." They flew and skipped about the stage, swirling ribbons that they had stored in their robes as they held their microphones.

 _Moonlight, starlight, the bogies will be out tonight._

 _Gives us a candle, give us a light! If you don't you'll get a fright._

 _It's Punkie Night tonight._

 _Time to meet for trick or treat, it's Punkie Night tonight._

 _Punkie Night, Punkie Night, Punkie Night tonight!_

The music ended and Miss Bat was first to give a rousing applause. Miss Drill blinked, trying to absorb the bizarre performance that she had just witnessed but she slowly began to clap, followed by the rest of the school. The students had loved it. Some of them were whistling and shouting, cheering for their fellow pupils.

"How... unique, Miss Bat," Miss Drill said, patting her friend on the shoulder.

"A truly wonderful balance of chaos and elegance. Well done. Now for the next performance, Miss Cackle?" The grand wizard looked to the headmistress who was smiling to herself.

"Of course, Your Honour, but first," Miss Cackle looked behind one of the trees surrounding the clearing, "I would like to say a few words."

"How wonderful! I do enjoy your speeches, Amelia!" The wizard said cheerily as Miss Cackle rose to her feet.

Miss Cackle strode to the centre of the clearing so she could look around the amphitheatre of pupils that were gazing at her in wonder. Despite how much they disliked the school, not one of them could say a bad word against the headmistress, except the three figures that were flying down from the sky, shrieking, "Stop the performance!", "It's not Miss Cackle!"

The students in the clearing began to mumble with confusion. The grand wizard looked at Miss Cackle and boomed, "Don't be silly girls, of course it's Miss Cackle."

Henrietta Hubble jumped from her hovering broom, "I mean no disrespect, Your Honour, but that," she gestured to Miss Cackle, "is actually Agatha Cackle."

Miss Drill leapt from where she sat to join the students, trying to quieten them down. Miss Cackle smirked, "Oh you are a clever girl, aren't you?" Her voice seemed to change ever so slightly as she chuckled to herself, "Perhaps I should have trapped you in the cupboard along with your cousin and my sister."

Four more figures soared into the clearing; Mildred, the real Miss Cackle, Miss Pentangle and Miss Hardbroom. They dismounted their broomsticks and joined the three pupils that had only just arrived.

Agatha's pale eyes widened, "How did you escape?!" She shrieked, "And you!" She rounded on Miss Hardbroom, "You couldn't possibly have been changed back without-"

"The _All-Purpose Witches Reversal Spell_ from _The Advanced Book of Spells_?" Hettie finished Agatha's sentence for her, "Miss Cackle had it open on her desk when you forced her into the cupboard and Miss Hardbroom found the spell we needed to use to turn her back into herself."

The grand wizard rose to his feet, "WHAT ON EARTH IS HAPPENING?!" He roared.

Miss Cackle stepped forwards, her still-hovering broomstick in tow, to greet the grand wizard and she explained the situation in great detail for him, "I understand how confusing this may be for you, Your Honour."

The grand wizard nodded, "Most definitely, though I do appreciate your honesty."

"You forgot to mention, Amelia, that Betty and Millicent will be joining us this evening as _my_ guests of honour." Agatha cackled as two stooped figures appeared from behind one of the larger trees. They approached the crowd of students like a pair of skulking hyenas, watching from either side, awaiting Agatha's signal.

"You may not have noticed the beautiful lanterns that have been hung up here, this evening, Your Honour," despite her wickedness, Agatha Cackle still acknowledged the grand wizard's superiority as she gestured to the many golden and orange coloured lanterns that hung from the tree branches, "These lovely lanterns have been infused with a special kind of magic. When the lanterns are ruptured they turn the nearest person or living being into stone. For example," She targeted a lantern hanging from the branch of a lone tree. With a flash of orange light, the tree had turned into a cold, grey statue of its original form. Silvery flecks of magic hung in the air for a moment around the tree as Agatha continued, "This school is mine by right. If it wasn't for Amelia stealing it from me all those years ago I would be running things around here."

"And of course, you would go to any means to ensure that, wouldn't you?" Miss Cackle added, her eyes twinkling behind her spectacles as she looked over to Miss Hardbroom. No words needed to be said as Miss Hardbroom nodded to the headmistress, beginning to cast a protection spell silently.

"You poisoned Granny Cackle against me, Amelia! You went to her when she was on her deathbed and told her to give the school to you!"

"I did no such, thing, Your Honour," Said Miss Cackle apologetically, seeing the look of concern on the wizard's face, "Now if you don't mind, Agatha we have a Halloween display to be getting on with."

Agatha pursed her lips angrily and clapped her hands together. At once the clearing filled with a dazzling beam of orange light as all the lanterns burst. The light hung in the air for a moment and disappeared again. Agatha shrieked with laughter, expecting to see the teachers, students and the grand wizard as stone statues.

"So that was your plan, Agatha Cackle? To turn us all into stone?" The grand wizard asked, cutting through the dusty fog that lingered in the air. His eyes were low as he looked at the witch who was now joined by her henchwomen, Millicent Coldstone and Betty Bindweed, who looked rather sheepish as they realised that their plan had failed.

"I... I..." Agatha stammered, shrinking away as the grand wizard approached her.

"All three of you have breached many of the rules laid out in the witches code. Punishment for so many crimes is, Miss Hardbroom?" The grand wizard turned to Miss Hardbroom who was smiling smugly.

"Permanent removal of magical powers and being turned into trees for twenty five years." She stated crisply, "That's if we remember to turn them back, of course."

The grand wizard beckoned for the students to gather in a circle around the three witches as he and the teachers of Cackle's (excluding Miss Drill who stood with the pupils) formed a ring, joining hands as they closed their eyes as they began to chant a spell. The sound of their voices echoed around the dark clearing like the sound of a bell in an empty stone tower. As they stopped their chanting, Agatha and her henchwomen began to glow blue as the magic was drained from them. The air around the women glistened as each ounce of magical power was taken from the witches and absorbed into the cosmos.

The teachers relinquished their hold on each others hands and looked at the three women they had formed their circle around.

"I'll arrange a place for these women to be planted, Miss Cackle." The Grand Wizard said as he turned the three witches into snails so they were easier to transport, "I'll let you know when it's all sorted out."

He gathered Agatha, Millicent and Betty into his hands and withdrew a small box from within his magnificent purple robe. He placed the snails/witches gently inside and placed them back into his pocket.

"Are you not stopping, Your Honour?" Asked Mildred who knew her fourth year girls were going to be disappointed if they couldn't perform their broomstick display for him, "My students would love to show you their act."

The grand wizard lingered for a moment and then beamed at Mildred, "Of course, my child. The witches council can wait until the morning. After all, it is Halloween."

Mildred breathed a sigh of relief as she took her seat beside Miss Drill who was now sitting next to Miss Hardbroom. She could see that the gym mistress had a gentle hold on Miss Hardbroom's bony hand. Miss Drill gave it a soft squeeze and Miss Hardbroom allowed herself to smile slightly. Without giving the interaction beside her a second thought, Mildred signalled for the girls to begin their display.

The fourth year girls stood up, Hettie and her friends were smiling brightly as they took to the air and began to circle the clearing on their broomsticks. Crescentmoon Winterchild slalomed in between her fellow students as they performed their waterfall drops and nosedives one by one. The whole class went into an elongated V shape, like geese in flight, as they all began the final manoeuvre. Hettie had aptly nicknamed this move _The Drop of Death_ as it could go disastrously wrong if performed badly.

The girls began to swoop in a barrel roll across the sky, one over taking the other to create an elegant rippling effect as they came hurtling towards the ground at speed. The first set of feet touched the ground as the girls began to land in a perfect circle. The manoeuvre was over and the pupils could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Even Crescentmoon Winterchild had managed to do the final move without a problem.

"A credit to the academy, well done!" Miss Cackle announced as the clearing rang with applause.

As the pupils caught their breath after an evening of excitement and celebratory dancing (and drinking for the teachers) the headmistress bid farewell to the grand wizard. He disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. The sun was just appearing over the peaks of the mountains as they returned to the school that morning. Miss Pentangle smiled brightly as she followed Mildred, Miss Cackle and Miss Bat up to the teachers wing.

"I'll be getting off now, Cackle. That was a truly excellent display. It was worth waiting for." Miss Pentangle stated as she entered her room to gather her things. She came out with a heavy-looking suitcase.

"I'll help you with your things, Phyllis." Miss Cackle said, smiling as she helped Miss Pentangle carry her suitcase down the narrow flight of spiral stairs.

Miss Drill and Miss Hardbroom, who were still quite awake, walked past them, heading towards the staff room. They entered and sat down at the table. Miss Drill had not let go of Miss Hardbroom's hand throughout the evening. They had danced together, drank together. They had been inseparable. After so much panic and concern Miss Drill did not want to let go of the gorgeous woman before her. She gazed admiringly at the witch whose long dark hair draped over her shoulder like a sheet of shimmering silk.

"You should wear your hair down more often, Constance," she said after a long silence.

Miss Hardbroom narrowed her eyes, "I've told you before, it's not practical."

Miss Drill removed her hands from Miss Hardbroom's for a moment, tucking a loose strand of hair behind the potion teacher's ear.

"I know."

She cupped her cheek in her hand and she could feel her self being pulled towards the witch like a magnet. She closed the ever-narrowing gap between them and their lips met. Miss Hardbroom's hands moved to Miss Drill's shoulders as they kissed. Soft pale lips caressed burgundy as the two women held each other.

As the two women remained so consumed by one another, they were unconscious to the fact that they were being watched. A pair of twinkling blue eyes were peering around the edge of the door which had been left ajar. Miss Cackle smiled to herself as she walked away from the staff room and back to her bedroom. A cup of hot chocolate and a pink wafer could wait until later...

* * *

 _A/N: I hope that you have enjoyed this fic! Thank you so much to everyone that has left a review (and to DreamsInLilac, TypicalRainbow and Plebs for providing some inspiration to what happened with Agatha and her cronies at the end)._


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